First Speech
by kismet4891
Summary: AU. "Two may talk together under the same roof for many years, yet never really meet; and two others at first speech are old friends." After her best friend shuts her out, Katniss unexpectedly connects with someone different from anyone else she has ever met before.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from THG in any way.**

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"Two may talk together under the same roof for many years, yet never really meet; and two others at first speech are old friends."  
_- Mary Catherwood_

…_..2000: 10 years & 12 years old_

The russet orange summer sky was streaked with purple tendrils of twilight. It would soon be time to go home but the knobby kneed boy was still hesitant to commit to what the little girl with two dark braids had suggested. He agreed yesterday but his sense bravado quickly faltered when she pulled the pocket knife from her backpack. "C'mon, Gale!" The rail thin girl whined, "Everyone already thinks you're my brother. Let's make it official." The girl was right, they looked like family. Both children were blessed with thick, wavy dark hair and striking gray eyes. The similarities between the two children did not end with physical appearance. The best friends were stubborn, fiery, and extremely loyal to one another and what they held dear.

He chewed nervously on his thumbnail. Gale really liked to weigh his options and Katniss only sprung this crazy idea on him yesterday. It is always _her_ ideas getting _him_ in trouble. Since he was two years older he always ended up taking the heat when things turned sour. "I dunno. Catnip, you know my parents will freak and so will yours." Gale was not really concerned about getting in trouble; his mom probably would not even notice a new scrape on the growing boy. Truthfully, it was the possible pain he was worried about. There was no way he would ever admit that to his brave best friend. "What about infection?"

"Cheezus Sprite!" Katniss exclaimed, "Infection? We aren't performing an amputation here Gale. Just two quick cuts and BAM," she loudly clapped her hands together, "just like that we are blood related."

"Catnip, what does it matter? We will always be best friends. What does cutting our hands have to do with anything?"

"It's just..." Katniss twisted a braid nervously between her fingertips trying to find the right words to convince Gale to do this. "When school starts I'll still be in elementary and you will be in middle school…why would you still want to hang out with a 4th grade baby like me?"

Katniss' heartfelt admission surprised Gale. He knew Katniss was not afraid of anything, so for her to admit she feared losing their friendship was a big deal. He flashed his biggest grin at Katniss and grabbed for the pocket knife she held. "Nothing could come between us. You and me, Catnip, we're best friends forever!" He winced slightly as he dug the knife into his palm and then quickly extended the knife to Katniss. He watched as Katniss repeated the same action on her palm. "Now what?"

Katniss reached for Gale's hand and matched up the homemade incisions. "Just grab and rub…I think. It's okay if we just make it up as we go along." Still holding Gale's hand she cleared her throat and stated, "I, Katniss Everdeen, do solemnly swear to be best friends forever and blood sibling with Gale Hawthorne until the day we die."

The declaration caused butterflies to soar in Gale's stomach. The butterflies when he was around his best friend were a new thing and he was not quite sure what it meant. "I, Gale Hawthorne, swear on everything true and holy to take Katniss Everdeen as my best friend and to take care of her and be there for her forever and ever until death parts us."

Katniss erupted in giggles causing Gale to blush, "You sound like we are getting married or something! This is deeper than marriage, Hawthorne; this is best friends we are talking about here." He stopped himself from asking what the difference was before Katniss realized he did not know there was one.

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…_..2004: 14 years & 16 years old_

Space was tight in the beat up Jeep that Katniss and her friends were riding in so she found herself on Gale's lap. The close proximity really was not that big of a deal and she definitely preferred sitting on her best friend than any of the other options available.

"Oh yes! This is my freaking song!" A girl beside them squealed, "I love it!" She cried before shifting into an off key rendition of an overplayed pop song.

Katniss leaned her back flush against Gale's chest, turned her head to align her lips with his ear, and whispered, "If you open the door, I'll toss her out."

Gale's heart began to beat rapidly. He realized that his body was betraying him. It had begun to react to the feeling of his best friend's backside pressed into his lap and her warm breath against his ear. Gale decided if he ignored_ it _then _it_ would just go away. "Shut your mouth. You know you love this song." He teased trying to rile Katniss.

"I do not! My taste in music is much more refined." Katniss twisted in his lap to face him directly. Her swiveling hips caused an amazing friction against Gale and he inhaled sharply. Instantly, the anger on Katniss' face washed away and was replaced by concern. "Gale, what's wrong?"

He closed his eyes and willed his breathing to steady but this just concerned Katniss more and she placed a soft hand on his cheek. Gale shifted in an attempt to relieve the pressure building in his boxers. He quickly realized that the decision to shift was a bad one because while it had relieved the pressure it had also caused his erection to press into Katniss' inner thigh. Out of instinct her hand moved to brush away what was poking into her and came into contact with Gale's mesh athletic shorts. Realization spread across her face and she began to apologize profusely, "Oh shit. I'm sorry. Did I hurt it? Are you okay?"

Mortified Gale hissed into her ear, "Shut up! Please don't pull everyone's attention to this. _It _will go away. Just STOP wiggling."

* * *

…_..2006: 16 years & 18 years old_

"I can't believe I agreed to this." Gale groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. "How do you talk me into this stuff?"

"A promise is a promise and you didn't think this was a bad idea last night when you PROMISED me!" Katniss kicked her dangling feet back and forth as she sat beside him on the tailgate of his beat up farm truck. They had parked in their favorite spot just outside of town to stare at stars and listen to music.

"Not fair Catnip. I was drunk and you know it." He turned his head to look at his best friend. In the moonlight her features were slightly obscured but he could still make out the glow of her gray eyes and the gleam of her toothy grin.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" Katniss confirmed his suspicion with a shake of her head. "Shit. This is going to be so fucking weird. Are you sure we want to go there?"

Katniss reached for Gale's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You are my best friend, Gale. Seriously, it's better if it's you than anyone else. I trust you." Katniss wrinkled her nose at Gale and teased, "I'm sure Thom would show me. I can ask him if you'd like." Disdain immediately washed over Gale's face. Katniss knew that he felt like he was her protector so she suggested the boy who she knew that Gale would find most offensive. She knew it was manipulation but it was a necessary evil to get what she wanted.

Gale exhaled deeply. The idea of Thom showing Katniss anything was absolutely deplorable but he still was not convinced this was a great idea. "You know there are websites dedicated to pictures of naked men. Can't you get your kicks there and let us keep something sacred between us?"

"Yeah see the deal is I checked those out and I'm not sure that I buy it. They were all hairless, oily and terrifyingly large. I just want to see what the big deal is about because those definitely didn't do it for me."

"And you think mine will?" The idea both enthralled and terrified him. He had long suspected that his feelings for Katniss were deeper than just friendship but he would never tell her that. It was not something that he could afford to explore because he knew that she did not reciprocate the feelings.

"C'mon Hawthorne I don't know what the big deal is! I know of at least two girls who have bore witness to the _awesomeness_ that is your junk and they seem pretty pleased." Katniss noticed her friend stiffen beside her. "Didn't think I knew about that did you? Word travels, Hawthorne, especially in the softball field house."

"Is that what this is about?" Gale teased lightly, "Catnip you are jealous!"

Katniss shoved Gale's shoulder hard, "I'm not jealous. I'm just curious. Just drop your pants and let me see. You promised." She exclaimed. Katniss did not care that those girls had been with Gale in a sexual way. But, she was jealous that other people knew more about Gale then she did. He was _her _best friend. It did not matter whose _boyfriend_ he was but she wanted him to be honest with her. That was how being best friends worked.

The desire to see Gale's penis was one bore out of her desire to make sure that no one else knew as much about him as she did. Well, there was _that_ and curiosity. All of the girls around her were talking about seeing them and she felt left out. Sure, she could go about seeing one the way the other girls did but Katniss was not ready for that. Gale did not have any expectations of her and she was safe with him. Who better than to do this with? "Are you stalling?"

"Okay, okay…you are absolutely sure about this?" He could not believe he was actually going to do this. It was always the way things worked between him and Katniss, she masterminded the ideas and he just followed.

"One hundred percent! Let's do this." Katniss enthusiastically rubbed her hands together. "Drop them."

Still sitting on the edge of the truck bed, Gale undid his jeans and shimmied them down his hips where they pooled around his sneakers. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see Katniss better now. She seemed okay with this, excited almost, so he tugged on the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down just far enough to expose himself. Gale forced himself to look up at Katniss who wore a stoic expression on her face. He made a move to pull his boxers up but before he could get them up Katniss timidly asked, "Can I touch it?"

"Uh, that wasn't part of the deal." This was going south quickly. The combination of warm summer air, the smell of Katniss' hair, and her innocent curiosity worked together to cause a reaction in his manhood. He needed to cover up soon or this would be turning into a whole different type of discussion.

"It just looks different is all, not bad different. The skin looks, uh, well, I don't know, is it soft?" Katniss' hand crept toward Gale's exposed groin.

Despite the fact that he was almost fully erect, he could not find it in him to let his best friend down. Gale grasped Katniss' outstretched hand, "Here" He took her fingers and lightly grazed them over his length, "If you touch it too much it'll get harder than it already is. That's just how these things work." He tried to explain without letting on how much of an effect her touch had on him. "It's already pretty much there." Gale admitted.

Katniss hesitantly traced the skin of Gale's member with her finger, "It is soft to the touch but also hard." Katniss murmured with interest. She pulled her hand back, "Thank you, Gale. I knew you would understand me wanting to see it but not wanting to do anything else." He pulled his shorts back up and she continued, "You are the best friend that I could ever hope for. Sorry for embarrassing you but you shouldn't be embarrassed I think it's…nice."

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…_..2009: 19 years & 21 years old_

Katniss waved her hands excitedly as she recalled the details of the movie with Gale. The show had ended late so he insisted on walking her all the way to her vehicle. He loved watching how animated she became when she got really wound up about something. Gale knew he was in love with his best friend. The last few months it had become increasingly difficult not to do something about how he felt. Making matters even more complicated was the fact that she had been happily dating someone for six months now. Gale missed his chance.

"Hawthorne, did you hear me?" Katniss interrupted his internal dialogue. She had tucked her legs and arms into her car and he held onto the door while she buckled in. "Anyways, so call me about going fishing tomorrow. Can you shut the door?" Katniss looked up at him. "Gale?"

Before he could process what he was doing Gale leaned down and kissed Katniss square on the mouth. Instead of instantly pulling away, Katniss gave into the weight of Gale's lips against hers and timidly reciprocated. Gale leaned awkwardly into Katniss' car and she strained against her seat belt as the kiss began to deepen. Their lips softly melded against each other in a carefully orchestrated dance. Gale felt like he has died and gone to heaven, he could not believe that he was finally sharing this moment with her. Katniss was caught up in the delicious feeling of their lips pulling and playing against each other until Gale moaned softly. It was in that moment that she remembered who she was with. Immediately, Katniss pulled away looking stunned and pressed her fingers to her lips.

"Katniss, I…" Gale started but she waved him off. She shook her head furiously as she grabbed the car door and slammed it shut. Before he could stop her, Katniss reversed the car and drove off quickly. Later that night she sent him a text message that turned into a conversation that forever changed the dynamic of their relationship.

K: I'm not sure what happened but can we put it behind us?

G: You seemed to really like kissing me.

K: I'm 19. I like kissing.

K: I'm sorry. You're my best friend and I have a boyfriend. We don't want to mess with perfection.

G: Ok

K: Good. So that's settled. Best friends, right?

G: Best friends.

The message that Gale sent last instantly relaxed Katniss and she was able to fall asleep shortly after. She blamed the kiss on pent up hormonal urges. Katniss told herself that kissing is bound to happen when your best friend is a boy and that eventually the kiss would turn into a blip on the radar of their long friendship.

Gale knew how Katniss perceived what happened between them and he was devastated. He knew better than to put himself out there like that. He absently rubbed the scar on his palm. Gale was well aware of the promise he made to Katniss nine years ago but sometimes promises were made to be broken. He now knew that distancing himself from his best friend was the course of action required to protect his heart.

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…_..2012: Present Day_

The announcement is clenched between my fingers as I storm into my house. I could care less that my mom isn't expecting me. A few hours ago, I didn't even know I was going to make the trip. I know that she had to have known about this and she chose to let me find out this way. _Unacceptable mom, even by your standards._

I cannot believe that this is happening and I'm apparently the last to know. When I opened the mail this afternoon I was expecting to find bills, pre-approved credit card applications, and hopefully a coupon for tampons or something. Imagine my surprise to see my name, Katniss Everdeen, in beautifully scripted calligraphy on scented stationary. _Who the hell uses scented stationary?_ I don't think it dawned on me that I was driving home until I was about thirty minutes down the highway.

Even though I spent the hour drive home scouring my brain for indicators that this was going to happen I'm still clueless. _Promises don't mean what they used to._ I should have been the first to know.

Mom better have some answers or I'm going straight to the source and something tells me that _he_ doesn't want to see me. Sure, the last few years had been rough. I think I just assumed he would get his shit together and then things would go back to normal.

Gale is my best friend. Twelve years ago we promised that we would always be best friends. I still have the scar on my palm to prove it. I took our commitment very seriously but it is obvious it meant shit to him. My supposed best friend proved that when he neglected to tell me that in six weeks he was going to become someone's husband. _Someone who thinks that scented stationary is a normal thing. _I hope for his fiancé's sake that he takes his marital vows more seriously than he did our friendship blood pact.

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**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope that the switch from third person narrative to first person was easy to follow. The remainder of the story will be from Katniss' perspective. I have not had much experience writing first person and am excited to try it! Peeta will be introduced next chapter so please stick around! **

**Also, please review and let me know what you think! I appreciate feedback of all kinds.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing THG related.**

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Mom was pulling weeds in the garden when I found her. After getting over the initial shock of seeing me she assured me that she did not intentionally withhold information for me. She had just assumed that I had known about the wedding. Of course she did_._ When we were younger the bond that Gale and I shared was air tight. It was reasonable to assume that anyone who had spent any time around us when we were younger would assume that I would be aware of such important information. You know what happens when you assume? _You make an ass out of 'u' and 'me.'_

It is before 5:30 on a Thursday afternoon and despite the strain between us, I know exactly where to find Gale. I pull up to the automotive shop and breathe a sigh of relief when I notice that the waiting area is clear of customers. As I pull open the door a mass of tiny silver bells jingles announcing my presence. "Be with you in a minute." A familiar voices call from the back. It actually takes less than a minute for Gale to make his appearance. His face contorts between confusion and excitement to see me.

"Guess what came in the mail today?" No point wasting time, may as well jump right into why I drove over an hour to see him. I want him to feel the pain that I do, so I say the first irrational thing that pops into my mind, "Is she pregnant? That's not a death sentence, Gale. You don't have to do this."

Gale runs a grease stained hand through his hair, "Christ, Katniss. Good to know you still have the subtlety of a pink fucking dancing elephant." He is really pissed. I can tell because he clenches his teeth and squeezes his chin tightly with his hand.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just insinuated that the only reason I was marrying Madge was because she was pregnant." He rambles on a little more but I can't bring myself to listen. I'm too focused on the fact that for the first time in years, possibly ever, Gale just called me by my real name. He didn't call me by _his _special, albeit irritating, nickname for me. It is probably time for me to tune back into what he is saying. "…Is it so hard to believe that I'm actually in love, Katniss?" _Again with my fucking name, he never calls me Katniss._

How do I respond to that? In a way he's right in the regard that I should be happy for him instead of just focusing on the negative. I choose the less appropriate but more comfortable route, "I guess I just thought I would have been there when you were falling in love and even helped pick out the ring and shit like that."

Gale looks at me like I just presented him with a puppy carcass, "You were there for fifteen years when I was falling in love and you were just as oblivious then as you are now. When we were kids your selfishness was kind of endearing, now not so much."

Where is he going with this? Me…Selfish? I'm not the one who pushed him out of my life. He was the one that dropped me like a hot potato when the one hour drive between my university and our hometown got to be too much for him."Puh-_fucking_-lease! What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean, Katniss. I hate to be an ass but you had your chance and you blew it. A lot has changed in the past three years. Madge was there for me when I was getting over you and that turned into something deeper." I'm not sure what the hell Gale is talking about. _Him getting over me?_ Surely he still isn't worried about our one shared kiss years ago. "She is capable of being my friend and being there for me in a way you weren't capable of. Madge is everything to me. I don't expect _you_, of all people, to understand but she is my companion, my lover, and…" Gale briefly pauses as if he is not sure he should say what he wants to next, "she is my best friend."

I wish he would have just left it at all the mushy bullshit because those five words tear me apart. I've been replaced. Then, as if he hasn't hurt me enough, he drops the bomb, "We debated about whether or not to even invite you… but I want you there." The thought that Gale would get married without me even being invited is too much for me to deal with. My face must betray me because Gale suddenly softens, "Madge is kind of insecure about you."

_About me?_

"You know, because of the history between you and me."

_Again with 'the history'._

"But, I convinced her it was important to me for you to be there. I want you there but you have to promise to behave Katniss. This isn't about you and I anymore, this is about Madge and I starting a life together."

It is pretty obvious to me that nothing will ever be the same between Gale and I again. I still don't understand what about the history of two best friends would be so intimidating to Gale's future bride. _It doesn't matter if I understand_. He made it pretty clear who his choice was and even though it means losing him, if Gale really is _that_ in love then I'm happy for him even if it hurts.

* * *

Despite my emotional exhaustion, I brave the hour drive back to my apartment. I have to work in the morning and the appeal of being able to pay my bills beats my desire to crawl onto my mom's couch with bottle of wine and Will Ferrell movies. Johanna, my snarky roommate, is relaxing on the couch with my dog and an extremely cheap bottle of wine. "Prim texted me and said to be nice to you."

I scowl at her, "Did she now?"

Johanna shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips together, "She also said that you would need a hug." I eye her carefully, I doubt that she will actually rise and try to hug me but with Johanna you never know what could happen next. "I figured a bottle of booze and dog cuddles was more your style." As if on cue, Harper, my lab, makes his way off of the couch and nuzzles my hand with his nose.

"This is exactly what I need." Johanna pours the wine into coffee mugs as I lean down and snake my fingers into Harper's silky black fur. There are several things that make living with Johanna bearable. My favorite being that she is perfectly content sitting silently or just listening to music, and she doesn't ask questions I don't want to answer. When I head to bed, she lightly squeezes my shoulder. It's her way of saying that if I want to talk she will be there or if I want to keep quiet that's fine too. As I drift to sleep, I dwell on this and know that even though I've lost my best friend I am not alone.

* * *

Johanna looks smoking in skin tight jeans and backless red halter. We are at a local bar to see a red dirt band play and something tells me that she won't be going home alone tonight. The bar scene really isn't my thing, especially on a concert night, but I promised her a month ago. "What do you want to drink?" She relays her order and I head to the bar for refills. I'll admit that I'm already a little tipsy. Aside from the mug of wine I shared with Johanna last night this is the first time I've had anything to drink in two months. When I back into something solid and hear the thud of a body hitting the floor I realize that I may have just committed a serious party foul. I turn to apologize and am greeted with the most gorgeous blue eyes that I have ever seen. The blonde man smiles at me whole heartedly and I feel my lips curl in reciprocation. He stands, still smiling, and dusts the back of his jeans off. "If you wanted to dance with me, you could have just asked." _Oh._ My face hardens. He is one of _those_ guys.

"Sorry." I bluntly apologize before continuing my trek to the bar.

"Whoa. Wait!" He hollers after me and I keep going trying to lose him in the throng of people. I have no tolerance for guys like him. When I reach the bar, I breathe a sigh of relief because either frat guy dropped his pursuit or I lost him. I add two beers and one shot of whiskey to Johanna's tab. Raising the plastic shot glass to my lips, I drain the shot before grabbing the beers and heading back to Johanna.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get out of that dance you owe me." His blue eyes baffle me. Like they seriously stop me in my tracks and cause me to pause long enough he thinks that I am consenting to a dance.

"Your eyes, they're contacts aren't they? Blue like that doesn't occur naturally." I know that what I said is insulting and incredibly rude but that is what I'm banking on. No one wants to dance with a bitchy girl.

He smiles at me again. What is with this asshole? I'm not even being nice to him and he is not catching the hint. Not to mention his fucking freakish eyes appear to be twinkling. I'm pretty sure that twinkling eyes are definitely a physical impossibility. _Maybe I'm drunker than I realize_.

"They can be whatever color you want them to be." Wow. All I can think is wow. Who is this guy? He has stopped smiling. _Finally._ An intense look has replaced the smile and he appears to be studying me then he opens his mouth again. "That was. Hmmm. Well that was a very bad attempt at a pick up line." Blondie's confidence is faltering. I should be thrilled with this chink in his armor and now I can definitely slip away. But, I'm not thrilled. I feel something foreign bubbling up. It's something I can't name. "Let me drop the drinks with my friend and then we'll have that dance." The words escape my lips before I can really think about them.

"I usually don't dance with frat guys but I feel bad for knocking you down earlier."My stomach is swirling and my cheeks are flushed._ Am I flirting_? I blame agreeing to dance with him on my slight buzz and my physiological reaction.

* * *

One of his hands rests lightly on my hip while the other holds my right hand at shoulder level. He doesn't hold me flush against him but I'm close enough to be able to easily follow the movements of his body as he leads me on the dance floor. "What makes you think I'm a frat guy?"

He spins me in one fluid motion. I wait until he pulls me close again to enlighten him. "Well, let's see… expensive jeans, a _pink_ button down, carefully mussed hair, the whole ladies man act, blue contacts, and not being able to take no for an answer. Yup, all those factors add up to you being a frat guy."

He smirks and his blue eyes do that twinkling thing again. My stomach drops and a sweet tingle twinges below my belly button. _Shit._ I know _that_ feeling. "Tell me your name. It's not fair that you apparently know everything about me and I know so little about you." He looks sincere. I quickly remind myself that looking sincere and actual sincerity are not the same thing. My brain registers the message but I feel my cheeks burns.

"Katniss." It comes out a whisper and he leans closer to me so he can hear me over the loud music, "Katniss." I repeat. "Katniss Everdeen." My brain registers that we have stopped moving but I just stand there allowing the blonde man to continue holding me.

"Peeta Mellark." He responds and then begins stepping and moving us to the music once more. A smile plays on Peeta's lips and I'm curious to know what he is thinking about. I don't have to wait long. "They aren't contacts."

I hadn't been paying attention to his words but staring at his lips as he talked. _Those fucking lips_. "Repeat that." I demand noticing that my voice has slightly deepened. I feel my tongue flicker past my lips and wet them.

"My eyes are just that. They're mine. I'm not wearing contacts." _I want to be his._ Peeta's mood has shifted and I notice that the twinkling in his eyes has stopped and they have darkened dramatically.

My buzz has started to wear off and I realize that Peeta is holding me flush with his body now. I can feel his taut stomach against mine and the twinge I felt earlier becomes full blown arousal. _Time to make my escape._ Johanna saves me before I have to make an excuse to run. She approaches with her arms wrapped around a man I have never seen before to let me know that our ride is ready to go.

"Stay a little longer. I'll get you home." Peeta assures me. That isn't going to happen, I'm smarter than that and I know exactly what he wants.

"Sorry. I have this thing where I don't get into cars with guys I don't know."

"Then let me come home with you. You know, to make sure you get home okay." Yup. He is one of _those guys._ I fucking knew it but it doesn't mean that I don't consider his proposition. I decide that I want to have some dignity left in the morning and decline. He asks for my number and I ramble off Johanna and I's favorite Chinese food joint. It's a little disappointing because it's been awhile since I've had a sexual release that wasn't orchestrated by my own fingers. I've got standards though and as hot as Peeta is I refuse to be a notch on his bed post. I'll give him this though, he was really fucking good, because he pulled off the nice guy thing more genuinely than any other guy who had ever tried that routine with me.

* * *

My phone buzzes when I'm brushing my teeth. Things are already heating up in Johanna's room so I ignore the phone and persist with getting ready for bed. Mentally, I'm preparing a play list to drown out the sounds of my roomie's amorous activities when my phone buzzes again. I ignore it again to create my playlist. I settle into bed and allow myself to recall the feeling of Peeta's hard stomach pressed into mine and those ridiculous eyes. Just as my hand has begun its descent between my thighs my fucking phone buzzes again. I roll over and grab it to realize that I was just drunk enough I unknowingly gave Peeta my real number instead of a fake one. _Shit._

His first text says, "I forgot to tell you how beautiful I think you are." I roll my eyes at this one. I was expecting something a little more original from a playboy like Peeta.

The next text causes me to laugh out loud. "I wish we were snuggling and watching a movie." _Yeah right_. I doubt he wants to just snuggle with me. I want to text him and tease him about this but something tells me that he would see it as encouragement. The last text simply says good night. Despite the week I've had, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

* * *

I wake up to another text from Peeta. Even though the text just says good morning I shake my head at his persistence. I consider texting him back but decide against it. I don't need his kind of trouble. It's not that I don't like going on dates and having boyfriends it's just things never work out. I can never truly give my heart to anyone and they always take it personally. They shouldn't, I just don't let people in.

Johanna and I are sitting down to sandwiches when my phone buzzes again. "I creeped your facebook page. Cute dog but mine's cuter. He would totally beat your dog's ass in a game of fetch." _Very cute._ He is trying a new angle, and I realize that it's working. No one talks about Harper that way. I have to text him back.

"Asshole! Harper, is a hoss who eats dogs who like to play fetch for dinner." I text him back while bringing my lap top to the table. Two can play this facebook creeping game.

My phone buzzes on the table as I locate Peeta's personal page."I think I'm growing on you." He is so cocky it's infuriating!

I take the bait though and quickly respond with, "Why do you say that?"

"Because you can't resist me." I can just imagine his blue eyes dancing as he typed that.

I shake the thought out of my head and quickly turn the conversation back to something that doesn't make my heart rate increase. "I did a good job of resisting you last night. I was responding to the text you sent saying that your dog would beat my dog's ass." Peeta has an entire photo album dedicated to a black and white Boston terrier. Not exactly the type of dog I expected the suave blonde to have. I quickly compose another text, "I don't condone dog fighting. But in a hypothetical fight, I assure you that my dog would tear your pathetic girly man dog to shreds."

He wastes no time replying, "How do you know my dog is girly?"

_Fuck_. Do I admit that I have been stalking his facebook page or do I change the subject? I come up with something better and just ignore him. Peeta doesn't skip a beat. I have successfully ignored him for five minutes when my phone vibrates again.

"See me again." I can't believe he has twisted it back to us again.

He is such a cocky bastard! It is time to drop this. I'm not even sure why I'm still encouraging our inane banter. _Yes, I do. It's fun and I desperately need something to take my mind off of Gale's dismissal. _

"I have to warn you that I'm just getting over a break up so I'm not looking to date." That should cause him to pause and think before he continues his pursuit. _So, I lied. Shoot me._ Even if it wasn't a dating relationship, Gale did just break up with me.

I do enjoy the occasional date. A girl has needs and on the top of my list are free food and orgasms. Yet, there is something about Peeta that I don't trust. Either he is the nicest, funniest guy that I have ever met or a very skilled pick up man. I am leaning towards the latter.

"Eww! Gross." Peeta's text reads like a 3rd grader being forced to hold hands with a girl.

A second text quickly follows the first, "I hate to embarrass you but I don't want to date you either. Hemingway is just really interested in meeting Harper. You should be ashamed of trying to take advantage of me that way."

My interest is piqued. He named his dog Hemingway. Not the typical Jake, Bud, Ace, or Jose that guys seem to cling to when naming their canine companions. The obvious question is whether or not he is actually a Hemingway fan or if he named his dog that to pick up Lit majors with tits. My practical side wins out and I decide not to ask him about this unless he puts together why I chose Harper's name. _Don't get your hopes up._ My phone buzzes again, "Okay well we will see you there at 2pm tomorrow. Tell Harper to bring her 'A' game there is going to be some hardcore fetch going on."

"Harper has a dick. I'll be sure to pass along that you thought he was a she."

"My apologies to Harper. See you tomorrow at 2pm. Meet you at the west dock at Lake Posner. I'll be the good looking one with the black and white dog."

_What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and story alerts! I'm having a lot of fun writing this story! :)**

**I also want to thank my phenomental beta! You are awesome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG or the characters.**

* * *

Last night I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned and spent the whole night re-adjusting my pillow. That rarely happens. I usually have trouble staying asleep, not falling asleep. Usually, a meticulously created play list will lull me into a fitful sleep. Instead I kept thinking about Peeta with his unnaturally blue eyes and smooth talking tongue. Men like him never get under my skin but here I am waiting at Lake Posner. My game plan is simple. I got here early and the minute the clock strikes 2pm I'm gone. Technically I upheld my part of the deal, now I'm just hoping that Peeta's tardy so that everything goes off without a hitch.

I know it's him the minute he pulls in. _Of course_ he drives a Jeep Wrangler. It fits perfectly into his frat guy persona. In the passenger seat beside him is an extremely hyped Boston terrier. The dog is seriously going bat shit crazy bouncing around acting nuts. I think I hate his dog already. I look over and appreciate Harper who is chilling in the seat beside me, taking it all in and acting pretty much indifferent to everything around him. I look up from Harper and see Peeta and his dog headed our way. Peeta is wearing a gigantic grin that extends from one ear to the other and carrying a gift bag. _Yikes. Seriously?_ He brought me a gift. I don't know what to make of this. I obviously can't accept whatever it is. I'm kind of embarrassed for him. It's_ almost _precious that he is trying this hard to bed me but mostly just pathetic.

I take a deep breath and exit the car. "Katniss!" He exclaims like we are old friends and starts to chuckle lightly, "I'm so glad that you decided to join us. I was kind of skeptical that you would actually show." He kneels down and starts scratching Harper's chest all the while the black and white terror at his feet jumps and pants. "This handsome boy must be Harper." Peeta stands and extends the package my way.

"Oh. Yeah..." I wrinkle my nose and shake my head at him. "I can't take that." Peeta's eyebrows bunch up and he looks at me with a confused grimace. _What could he have possibly misunderstood about what I said? _"I just. I mean, it's nice and all but really unnecessary." I'm starting to think that Peeta is all beauty and no brains.

"It's not for you." Peeta speaks slowly emphasizing the 'for' and the 'you' and smirking at me mischievously. He is really getting on my nerves with the smirking and constant smiling. No one genuinely smiles this much. _No one._

I make a point to roll my eyes at him making sure he catches my drift. "Oh, ok whose it for then?"

"Harper." _Huh?_ Peeta is belly laughing which incites his shit head dog to jump all over me. I push the dog away and scowl at him while he enjoys this moment of inexplicable hilarity. "The present is for him, not you. The world doesn't revolve around the lovely Katniss Everdeen."

I peer into the gift bag and see a brand new tube of tennis balls. My cheeks heat up; I smile meekly at Peeta and feel my stomach start to roll. I'm actually embarrassed that I just assumed the gift was for me. _This_ isn't my style. I don't _do_ embarrassment or apologies. Yeah, I can be crass and sometimes a huge pain in the ass but that's just who I am. I always say what I mean so why should I be ashamed of saying, or doing, what I feel.

Peeta is two for two. I danced with him out of repentance for knocking him down and now I find myself shamed because of my poor attitude. _I'm not sure what is going on here._ My friends are the only ones who I usually act this way with, but Peeta and I aren't friends. We aren't anything. _Yes._ I am attracted to Peeta. However, I've been attracted to other guys before and none of them could make me feel embarrassed or get an actual honest apology from me. Maybe my hormones are just out of whack because it's been so long since I've been laid. If I care about Peeta's feelings and his assessment of me, we must be meant to be just good friends. I'm okay with that. I just lost my best friend, no time like the present to make a new one.

"I, uh, wasn't laughing at you, Katniss. I'm sorry." Peeta is apologizing to me. My dazed look and flushed cheeks must make it look like I'm upset.

"You're fine. I shouldn't have just assumed." There I go again being worried about _his_ feelings over _mine_. "So, what's the plan?"

"How about we walk the dogs and just get to know one another. I work the night shift at the hospital so I don't have to go in until 6pm." He smiles at me and I realize his eyes are doing that twinkling thing that I noticed at the bar. It's incredibly sexy and confusing all at once. _If Peeta and I are meant to be friends why can't I stop thinking about how hot he is? _Gale is good looking and I don't ever find myself dwelling on him.

I don't even skip a beat before I respond, "The hospital? What do you do there?"

"I'm an RN in the emergency department." _Whoa. I did not expect that._ Peeta stops to toss a tennis ball into the water and his ankle biter darts off after it.

"Nurse, huh?" I push my elbow into his side and nudge him a little. My subconscious is flirting with Peeta. At least that is what I tell myself because I'm not ready to admit that I may intentionally be encouraging this. _Seriously, I need to stop while I'm ahead._

Peeta shakes his head at me and his eyes roll just a bit. "Go ahead; get all your _murse_ jokes out of the way now." His dog is swimming back to shore now panting loudly and snorting through his nose. The tennis ball is huge in his small mouth.

"I get it, male nurse equals murse. I'll have to hold onto that one." I'm not sure what he was expecting from me but I have a lot of respect for nurses. Before my dad died my mom was a very successful nurse. It's tough, dedicated work that requires just as much heart as physicality. I'm starting to think there is more to Peeta then what meets the eye. "I think I'm going to get to see you in action. Your dog may need CPR when he finally catches up."

"Nah. Hemingway just gets super excited about fetch and his flat nose can't keep up with how wound up he is. He'll stop if he gets too tired. Looks like he and Harper," Peeta motions to Harper who has made his way out into the water and is swimming in lazy circles. "couldn't be more opposite."

We stop to watch the contrasting canines enjoy themselves and I smile at Peeta's obvious statement. A couple minutes of silence pass between us before Peeta turns to me. I notice that his cheeks are flushed and he can't stop staring at his feet. Mentally I begin preparing for whatever it is he wants to say because I can tell he is really psyching himself up for something.

"Why do you think I'm a frat guy? Not that there is anything wrong with being in a fraternity or anything. It's just the way you say it sounds like an accusation or something."

My head cocks slightly to the side as I consider what Peeta is saying. He's right I have been sizing him up and making assumptions about him since we ran into each other at the bar. "I dunno. It's a protective thing for me. I like to know what I'm up against, so I try to figure out motives before they surprise me."

Now, I'm the surprised one as I realize the weight of what I have just admitted to a man I barely know. Peeta doesn't say anything but just stares at me shifting his weight from foot to foot while waiting for me to elaborate. I'm glad for the silence because it gives me time to think of a way out of a conversation I don't want to have with him, or anyone for that matter.

I want to see how he will hold up under my scrutiny. "I'm not being a bitch or anything but you play into the part pretty well, don't you?"

Peeta crosses his arms in front of his chest, "How so?"

"For chrissake, you asked to go home with me within two hours of meeting me. It doesn't get more forward than that."

"To. Make. Sure. You. Got. Home. Okay." He punctuates every word with precision. "You seemed a little tipsy."

I roll my eyes at him. "Okay. You are just that nice that you wanted to make sure I got home. How do you explain the text about cuddling and a movie? Was that for my safety too?" The statement is loaded and laced with sarcasm. My intention to make Peeta's mask crumble so I can see who he _really _is.

To my disappointment, he doesn't take the bait. Peeta shrugs his shoulders and leans to retrieve the tennis ball his dog dropped as his feet. He lobs the ball out into the lake and nonchalantly states. "I like cuddling with pretty girls. Sue me."

"Puh-_fucking_-lease! Does that work with other girls, or do I just look gullible?"

He is smirking at me. The more riled up I get the more amused he becomes. I'm really starting to hate this guy. I'm not sure anyone else gets to me like this. "For such a beautiful girl you have an incredibly foul mouth. Why is it so hard to believe that I wasn't trying to sleep with you?"

How do I tell him that it's easier for me to accept that someone wants to have sex with me then that someone would actually want to get to know me? _Everdeen, your one fucked up piece of work_. "Agree to disagree on this one." I think it's a generous offer.

Peeta lets loose a full on belly laugh. "I don't think it works that way. I'm not going to agree to disagree when what your saying is completely asinine."

Running away seems like the most comfortable option here so I turn tail, holler at Harper, and hurry back to my vehicle. Peeta follows closely behind but luckily his ridiculous dog isn't as easily reigned in as Harper and I get a head start. The closer I get to my car it dawns on me how ludicrous it is that I just literally ran away from Peeta. I lounge against his Jeep and try to look as natural as possible.

As he approaches, Peeta's grin gets bigger and bigger. "Just can't stay away, can you?" He asserts and it is enough to send me storming towards my car. "Katniss, wait! I'm sorry I'll stop teasing you. It's just so easy because you're so serious about everything."

I turn and hope that the glare I shoot him is as seething as I'm trying to make it. "I don't like things that aren't easily classified and you are _something _I can't figure out."

Peeta's intense blue eyes soften. "I promise that I'm not as difficult as you think. I'm just a nice guy looking for someone interesting to hang out with." His tone is soft and patient. I'm not sure how he stays so calm, especially when I'm so obviously agitated. "I think you are beautiful, but I guarantee I'm more interested in you as a person then your physical gifts."

He seems so earnest it's hard not to believe him, but I wasn't born yesterday. "Really?" I'm sure he can hear the disdain and question in my voice because I don't try to hide them.

Peeta doesn't skip a beat. "Really." Those fucking eyes of his are sparkling and the light is playing off of his golden curls. He looks cherubic. _An angel, he looks like an angel._ "Let me show you." He grasps my hand and I look up and find myself swimming in his amazing blue eyes. "Tomorrow night. I'll bring a movie and pizza and we can get to know one another better."

* * *

Johanna raises her eyes at me over the top of her coffee cup. "Ok. Let me get this straight." She sets her coffee cup down. _Uh, oh._ It's not even seven am and Johanna has willingly put down her caffeine sustenance. "You meet a man, who I must add resembles a Grecian god, which wants nothing more than to spend time with you. Instead of being thrilled at this development you're pissed." Johanna stops and frowns at me. "Oh, and despite the fact that you want to mount him like prized racehorse you fear that his only intentions with you are for sex. Talk about a conundrum."

Johanna is using her sing song voice that she reserves for blatant sarcasm and I don't necessary appreciate it. "It's more complicated than that, Jo, and you know it." I'm whining. It's unbecoming and I'm acting childish but I fully expected her to understand where I was coming from. "He makes me_ feel_ things I don't understand and I don't like it."

"Oh, poor baby. I get that the only _feelings_ you are comfortable with are anger and arousal but Katniss it's good to get out of your comfort zone every once in awhile." Johanna is right and it pisses me off. "What's the worst that can happen?"

She poses an excellent question. _What is the worst that can happen?_ Hmm. I could end up really liking him, that's what could happen. Nope, not going to let that happen. It's time to just sleep with him and get him out of my system. Once I work through all the sexual tension between us I'm sure that I'll forget all about Peeta. It will be nice to move on from this. _Hit it and quit it._ The last few days have been crazy but tonight everything will be resolved because I've just decided that tonight is the night that I sleep with Peeta Mellark.

* * *

Peeta's frame graces my doorway. I can see him grinning through the screen door. _A little eager aren't we._ In his arms he carries a pizza, a DVD, and what appears to be a box of popcorn. _Isn't that sweet? _He really intends to play up this 'movie date' but I know what he is really here for. _Me._ Deep in my stomach I feel a sweet twinge and familiar warmth begins to spread from my belly button down.

"Come on in." He moves to open the door and I notice that Hemingway is bouncing around at his feet. _Fantastic._ I bet that little shit will be all up in our business while we are exploring each other's businesses.

Peeta looks at me expectantly, "Where's Harper?" I motion towards the French doors to the backyard. "I'll put Hemingway out there with him." He smiles at me and all I can think about is how I can't wait to find out how his mouth tastes.

"Sounds good." I take the pizza and head to the kitchen while Peeta situates his tiny beast dog. He is chattering the entire time. _Does he ever shut up?_ Peeta is talking about how he had to look several different places to find _it _but the effort wasn't wasted because _it_ was at the last video store he went to.

_No time like the present_. I strip my shirt off and wait for him to come through the kitchen door. May as well get started now and start exorcising the demons that are _feelings_ before my head starts spinning on my neck. Despite my best efforts, Peeta has really grown on me and I'm going to miss him. It makes me sad to imagine not seeing him anymore but it also makes me more resolved that I made the right decision. I hear him approaching the door so I quickly adjust the black lace undergarment to really accentuate the girls.

Peeta pushes through the door and doesn't immediately notice me because he is still yammering about the DVD box in his hands. He looks up and the look on his face is priceless. His lovely blue eyes widen, his nostrils flare and his arms go slack at his sides.

"K-K-Katniss!" Peeta actually stutters. Not what I expected from Mr. Smooth but I'll take the compliment. I start to close the distance between us and he turns around. _He actually turns around._ "What…what are you doing?" His back is to me but his neck and ears are flushed a beautiful deep pink.

"What you started that night at the bar." Damn. I'm good.

I keep thinking he is going to turn around but he doesn't. Peeta just stands there with his back to me. I've rendered him speechless and I'm starting to think that it isn't in the good way. "Would you mind putting your shirt back on?" His voice is almost a whisper and he sounds hurt. "I don't know how to make you see that I'm not who you think I am." Yup. He's definitely hurt. Peeta's voice has taken on the soft quality that mothers use on crying two year olds.

I don't know what to do. It all seemed so clear cut earlier when I was planning this but now I see that I may have made an err in judgment. "I thought you wanted to fuck me."

Peeta reacts like my words were actually a kick in the stomach. He visibly deflates in front of me. Shoulders slumped and arms wrapped around himself he turns around to face me. Peeta stares straight into my eyes, completely ignoring my state of undress, "How can I make you see _me_ instead of this guy you think I am? You deserve more than someone who just wants to screw you and frankly, so do I."

I feel like dirt. I have seriously misjudged this man. I wasn't trying to hurt him. I just thought this was what he wanted because I know I wanted it. "Peeta, I'm sorry." If only he knew how hard apologies were for me.

"I'm going to go." He extends the hand with the DVD box in it. "Keep this. I bought two copies because I wanted to make sure you had one." I take the DVD and he turns to exit the kitchen. In my hands is a copy of the 1962 film adaptation of Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird." _Peeta understands my dog's name. _My heart literally skips a beat. _How do I make this right?_ I can't let him go but I don't know how to make him stay. _Why do I even care if he stays?_ If he leaves my problems are solved and all these conflicting feelings will leave with him.

"Peeta wait!" I catch him as he opens the door. "I, uh, well…I'm not good with people." Peeta gives me a sad smile but doesn't make any moves to continue out the door. "With me and men it's just either we're friends, or we sleep together."

"What about dating? You know, like getting to know each other Katniss?" He looks at me like I'm not familiar with the definition of dating. I can see the Peeta that I had gotten used to returning to me.

"I've tried and it never works." Easier to let him down now instead of later.

The exasperated look returns to Peeta's face. He seems frustrated but not angry. I'm impressed. Typically, I skip exasperation and go straight to anger. "You are so confusing but there is something about you I don't want to walk away from."

Phenomenal. He feels the way that I do. "Then we should sleep together, work out the sexual tension and move on."

"NO." _Well that isn't what I was expecting._ Peeta's statement is more assertive than what I thought he was capable of. I really thought he was into me with all the friendly touches and flirting.

I feel myself becoming defensive. This is a new feeling for me in regards to men. "You don't want me?" Peeta keeps causing me to feel all these emotions that are foreign to me. I'm at a loss at how to proceed. I blame his unnatural blue eyes. They must have been cursed by a voodoo priest or something.

"Katniss don't turn into a girl on me now. I think you're beautiful, funny, and crude as hell and I want to know you better." Peeta's eyes are doing that crazy twinkling thing again. _Yup. Voodoo priest._ He looks proud of himself like he has mastered a really difficult jigsaw puzzle. "So, friends it is then."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to my incredible beta for making me look good and fixing all my boo boo's! You rock!**

**A big thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review and alert the story. It is incredibly motivating and I love hearing everyone's ideas! For those who asked...I am not abandoning 'Evolution' it is just moving very slowly right now. **

**Please review and let me know what you liked and/or hated about the latest chapter! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG or the characters.**

* * *

…_...2003: 13 & 16 years old_

"Stop! Gale! Stop the truck!" Katniss screamed with urgency. Gale immediately slammed his foot into the brake throwing his arm in front of Katniss to catch her before she hit the dashboard. Both teens violently lurched forward as the truck's old brakes strained to find traction on the washboard dirt road.

Dust billowed all around the decrepit farm truck when it finally came to a halt and in response to the shock of the moment Gale buried his face in his hands. "Shit! Is everything okay?" He spoke through his fingers.

"Everything was fine until you tried to roll us. Cheese and rice! That was a close one." Katniss was panting but unharmed. "Turn around. I saw a dog back there and he looked like he was hurt."

Gale quickly pulled his hands from his face and glared at Katniss. "A dog?" He questioned as his face furled in anger. "You shriek like a fucking banshee to get me to stop for a dog?" Gale's chin is tilted back and his head shaking furiously. "We could have been killed Catnip. My baby here could have been ruined." He pats the steering wheel. "Out of principle, I'm not turning around."

"Frack you, Gale! Seriously, just frack you." Katniss huffed as she hastily exited the truck. "I'm checking on him Hawthorne and if you don't want to stay around that's fine by me. I'll walk home!"

"Fine. Enjoy your ten mile trek home. I'll be sure to tell your parents that you ditched me for a dead dog." Gale knew the minute the words left his mouth he would eat them. In no circumstance would he ever leave Katniss, infuriating as she was, on the dirt road. On the other hand, Katniss was stubborn enough to walk home just to save face. He noted the time on the dashboard clock and watched in the rearview mirror as she disappeared over a hill. _Five minutes_, he thought to himself, _five minutes and I'll go get her. _When the five minutes passed, Gale turned the truck around and headed to retrieve his best friend.

When Katniss reached the frail black dog lying on the side of the road tears immediately began rolling down her cheeks. She approached him cautiously using a soft voice and kind words. The dog raised his head off of the ground just barely and looked directly at Katniss. The pathetic creature's eyes were glazed with pain and as Katniss approached he sighed deeply as if to say, 'I knew someone would come.' She assessed his stomach wounds and realized that he had not been hit by a car but shot. The wound was a deep red and oozing, obviously infected.

"He's pretty bad off Catnip. I'm not sure there is much we can do." Gale's voice behind her back startled her. She did not realize he had come back. "We can put him out of his misery."

Katniss scooted closer to the dog and the injured animal raised his head and laid it in her lap. "No." She stared at Gale fiercely. "I will not let anyone hurt him again."

"Catnip…" Gale started to plead with the emotional girl before she cut him off.

"Gale Hawthorne, I said no and I meant no. Help me load him in the back. I'll ride with him to the veterinarian's office."

The teenagers tediously loaded the hurt dog into the back of the truck and Katniss rode the entire way back to town cradling and coddling the dog. When they arrived at the veterinarian's office he was rushed to the back while Gale and Katniss were left waiting in the front. "What happens now?" Gale questioned.

Katniss looked at him with a quiet resolve in her eyes. "We wait. When Harper pulls through I'll take him home. Daddy has been talking about getting a new hunting dog since Patch died."

"You named him? Bad idea, you'll get attached." Gale wrapped his arm around Katniss' shoulders and squeezed. "Besides that, Harper is a stupid name for a dog." He teased her unsure of what else to do. Katniss was behaving more seriously than he had ever seen her.

The ribbing did not work, however his fiery friend offered an explanation for naming the creature instead of getting angry. "I was thinking Samson like the bible story so he would be tough, but _he _didn't like it. So, then I started naming off lots of characters from books I like and _he_ didn't like any of them. When I got to Atticus and he still didn't like it I said 'Harper Lee's characters aren't even good enough for you?' and his tail started thumping. _He_ liked it. He chose Harper."

* * *

I'm busy talking to Prim on my cell phone when I pull up to the apartment so I just sit in the car to finish the conversation. She wants to stay with me and go shopping for a dress this weekend for the wedding. Apparently, she is going to be serving cake and has to have the perfect dress. I'm not sure what the big deal is about serving cake but any excuse to get Prim to come visit is worth having to go dress shopping. Prim is going on and on about how _exciting _it is to be chosen to serve cake, and how _honored _she felt that Madge had wanted to include her. Color me unimpressed but I'm not quite sure how Madge asking my baby sister to do bitch work at her wedding is something to be celebrating. Can't she cut her own cake? _And while she's at it, find her own best friend instead of stealing mine? _

As soon as I hang up I realize that there is a silver Jeep parked in the spot beside Johanna's. This is an interesting development. I didn't invite Peeta over but I know it's his Jeep because in the front passenger seat is the frivolous car seat harness that he uses to trap his little shit head dog in the cab.

When I walk through the back door I find Johanna holding court at the French doors to the backyard but no Peeta in sight. She doesn't turn to greet me even though I know she had to have heard me come in. Whatever she is staring at obviously has her captivated. "Prim's coming this weekend so she can get a dress for Gale's wedding."

"Uh, okay. Thanks for the heads up." Johanna doesn't even turn to face me. I'm getting curious about what's going on outside. I'm assuming it has something to do with Peeta since I haven't seen him or the ridiculous animal he calls a dog.

"Gale's _bitch_ fiancé asked her to serve cake. Can you believe that? Who does that?"

"Uh, huh." She is nodding her head and agreeing with me but it's pretty obvious that Johanna isn't listening to a word I say.

"Care to enlighten me as to what is so enthralling that you are ignoring me?" I'm pissed. I hate to be ignored.

Johanna finally turns around to face me. "I heard everything you said I was just choosing to ignore the pity party you are indulging in to check out the Adonis in the back yard." She motions outside and I come up behind her to get a better look, and finally I see Peeta. "I mean seriously, yum! He's so sweet too. If you aren't going to play with him, can I?" The corners of Johanna's mouth curl into a wicked grin. I'm pretty sure she is teasing and if she isn't I may have to kill her. If I can't have Peeta then I don't want anyone else too. I'm well aware that we agreed to just be friends, but I can't help it. The idea of Johanna touching Peeta is enough to make me see red.

I pause a moment to fully take in the scene unfolding outside. _Oh,my! _Peeta is in the back yard digging with his shirt off. My palms begin to sweat, and I am suddenly aware of the pulse pounding in my ears. There doesn't seem to be enough air in the room. _What the hell is going on with me?_ I have to get a hold of myself so I channel my rampant arousal into a preferable emotion. "Why is he digging up our stump?" I am livid. "Did you ask him to do that?" My question came out as more of a snarl than an inquiry. The sight of Peeta doing unsolicited yard work has me worked up in more ways than one.

"Chill the fuck out roomie. He just showed up and said that he noticed the stump the other night and wondered if he could dig it up for us." Johanna is looking at me like I spit in her food or something. "I thought you would be thrilled since you were so pissed at me when I destroyed the tree. You…" She points her finger into my chest, "…said that the stump looked like shit and you hated it. He's doing us a favor." She's right. I hate that goddamned stump.

About a year ago, Johanna found her boyfriend in bed with another girl. So she came home and took an ax to the tree. She loved him and he shattered her heart, so in turn she shredded our tree with an ax. In a way, the remaining tree stump reminded us that no matter how good falling in love feels, heartbreak hurts more.

My eyes return to the sight of Peeta diligently working on removing the hideous stump. He is bent over and pushing the blade of the shovel deep into the hard ground surrounding the roots. I can see his muscles ripple slightly beneath his creamy white skin. There is a thin sheen of sweat covering his shirtless form making his body glisten slightly in the afternoon sunlight. Although he has a hat on to keep the sweat out of his eyes his shaggy hair is dripping. An unwanted image of me dragging my tongue along his jaw line shoots into my brain_. I want to taste him._ "He is such a chauvinist asshole, isn't he? Just because our junk is on the inside he thinks we can't dig up our own stump."

I'm spewing words of anger but my body is responding to the sight of Peeta's tight ass, broad shoulders and flat stomach in a completely different way. The throbbing pulse in my ears has moved south. This whole situation is infuriating. I'm so very angry at him right now, but I'm not sure if it's because he is removing my symbol, or because I _want _him and can't _have_ him. I need that physical reminder of why loving someone is bad. If not I have to think of what my mom became after my dad died, and that is much harder than looking at some stump.

Peeta reaches up and takes his hat off to wipe his head and face with his discarded t-shirt. The enticing muscles in his upper back tighten and all I can think about is clutching onto those glorious shoulders while we make love. _Make love?_ It is official, I've lost all control of my libido and mental facilities. _Why am I thinking about making love to Peeta?_ It's sex. It's only about sex. I've got to get a handle on this before it blows up in my face. Peeta isn't the Adonis that Johanna thinks he is. He is a bigger threat than some mythological god. Peeta is human, _so very human_, and he is here, and I want him to be mine. _This will not do._

My hand pulls at the handle of the door, and before I'm even completely outside I am berating Peeta. "Who do you think you are?" Startled, Peeta drops the shovel and stares at me with wide eyes. I throw my hands onto my hips and lock eyes with him. "No one asked you to take out _our_ stump!" My voice takes on the sarcastic sing song tone that Johanna has perfected. "Come to take pity on two single girls and do all the hard work for them?" His dazzling blue eyes continue to fixate on my face, unblinking and unwilling to look away. A bead of sweat slowly makes its way down the side of his face, and I am finding it harder and harder to push the sexual desire down. "Newsflash, asshole, we can take care of ourselves, and we don't need you or any other man's help." _What do you say to that blue eyes?_

Peeta has regained his composure, and he is eyeing me like a wounded animal trying to decide how to proceed. "Well, good afternoon to you too Katniss." He speaks slowly and then flashes his gleaming teeth. "I know you didn't ask me, and I also know that you are capable of taking out the stump. I just had a free afternoon and wanted to help. That's what friends do, we help each other." Peeta bends over to pick up the shovel, and he actually makes a move to resume what he was doing.

The smile set me off but his blatant disregard for me asking him to stop is more than I can handle. I was pissed off before, but now I am completely enraged. _How can he be so calm when I'm obviously incensed at the sight of him? _"When will you get it through your thick skull that _I_ don't need _you_?" As the words leave my mouth I realize that I'm not even sure what this tantrum is really about. Shame washes over me and Peeta looks confused at my outburst. The pent up anger and frustration is more than I can take so I haul off and kick the stump in front of me. _Mistake. Big mistake_. Tears spring into my eyes, I plop down on my bottom and pull my foot to me.

Peeta is at my side instantly. "Oh man, you kicked the shit out of that! Did your ankle, or toes, take the brunt of the hit?" The pain radiating from my toes is almost unbearable and tears are threatening to fall. _Don't cry. Don't cry. Do. NOT. Cry._ My pride wants to push Peeta away and play tough, but I can't move my toes and I don't trust myself to stand up without help. He brushes the hair from my face, "Katniss look at me." I raise my face but my eyes don't actually meet his. "I'm going to carry you inside and take a look at this foot. Is that okay with you?" At this point I'm biting my bottom lip and water is escaping from the corners of my eyes. I indicate that I'm okay with him picking me up with a nod of my head.

Johanna apparently witnessed the whole thing and is standing holding the door open. She makes eye contact with me as we pass through the door and gives me a smug grin while shaking her head at me. Point taken. I'm a jackass. Peeta places me gently on the couch and turns to Johanna. "Would you mind bringing me some scissors?" He turns back to me with a concerned face, "Tell me what hurts. Foot? Ankle?"

"I can't move my toes." My breathing hitches as the tears continue to roll down my cheeks. Peeta gives me a reassuring smile. "Good. Better toes than your foot or ankle. I'm going to take your shoe off. Let me know if it hurts too much." He deftly removes my shoe. The toe of my sock is drenched in blood. "See, that wasn't so bad." Peeta reaches for the scissors. "I hope these aren't your favorite socks, because I'm going to have to cut this one off. Johanna, any chance you have some gauze or old rags you aren't partial too?" Peeta places a warm hand on my calf and squeezes gently. "You are doing so well Katniss."

I feel dreadful and it's not just my toes. Peeta is taking care of me with compassion when I just got all over him for being nice to me. I called him an asshole and told him I didn't need him, and instead of making me suffer he is being so good to me. _The pain in my toes is nothing compared to the ache in my heart._ At this point, I'm not sure which pain the tears are a response too.

"Katniss?" Peeta has his back turned to me while assessing the state of my toes. "I'm going to load you up in my Jeep and take you to the ER. I'm positive that at least three of these need to be reset,and there may be underlying fractures that we will need an x ray to see." He stands and my mangled toes come into view. _Gross._ I hate hospitals but Peeta is right, I did a number on myself.

* * *

We are in and out of the hospital in record time. I feel _spectacular_ thanks to the awesome drugs that Peeta made sure I got on arrival. I had forgotten the perks of coming to the hospital with a nurse. Everyone was so nice and accommodating. Peeta stayed with me the entire time. He was gentle and reassuring, and I can see how he would be a favorite on the nursing staff. When we arrive at the apartment he carries me into my bedroom and sets me up on the bed. I'm pretty sure it's the drug induced haze but I feel so relaxed and at ease. "Peeta you are the best." I hear myself quip through the codeine bubble.

Peeta beams at me and adjusts the pillows behind my head. "You sure didn't think that earlier." He informs me as he takes a seat on the bed.

"Oh, I always think it but I don't want you to know that." I raise a hand to my mouth to stop myself. The codeine has definitely kicked in and the warm fuzzies are in high gear.

He reaches over and pulls my hand from my mouth. "If only that were true. I think the pain medication is talking." Peeta looks at me dejected. "You need a change of night clothes. I'll grab Johanna to come help you."

"No." I realize it comes out more of a whimper than a request but I continue anyway. "I don't want you to leave. You're a nurse. Can't you help me?" There is no hidden agenda here. I'm so blitzed on hydro codeine that my libido is in hibernation. I just can't bear the idea of Peeta leaving.

"Katniss, I agreed to your terms. We are friends but I'm also a man who finds you very attractive. It wouldn't be right for me to help you dress." He's right. It was my ultimatum not his. "You aren't my typical patient."

"Sometimes I wish you weren't such a gentleman."

"Me too." A smile ghosts Peeta's lips as he agrees with me. He stands and places a quick kiss on my forehead. "Let me get Johanna."

* * *

Peeta returns with a tray as soon as Johanna is done helping me. "I made you a sandwich so you can take your next pain pill. I also brought a wash cloth for your face and your toothbrush." He sets the tray down on the bedside table. "I should get going. Hemingway is probably driving my brother completely nuts."

My stomach drops at the thought of Peeta leaving. I think the pain pills are screwing with my emotions because I may start crying. "Please don't leave!" I plead and Peeta looks at me surprised. His feelings must still be hurt from earlier, and I'm afraid if I don't make it right I'll never see him again. Plus, something in me just doesn't want him to leave. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I really am. I never apologize; ever…you can ask anyone. That's how you can know that I am really sorry."

"You are so hot and cold. I don't know what to make of you most of the time." Peeta stares at his hands the entire time he admits this. My assumption was right. I've just about pushed him to his limit of understanding.

The medication has loosened my tongue but I do not regret what I say next, "Be patient with me. Please Peeta. I know I've been horrible, and I also know that I've misjudged you." I reach for his hand and will his eyes to meet mine. "Everything about you gets under my skin in a good way. You are so different…it scares me. I like things one way or the other and you blur the lines." Peeta's blue eyes have finally met mine, and I fight the urge to look away. "I don't like that I can't figure you out, and I really hate that I feel things when I'm around you. Sorry for hurting you and yelling at you but please stay. Please be patient with me." There is a deeper meaning to what I'm asking, but I hope that Peeta thinks I'm just asking him to take care of me tonight.

* * *

**A/N: I am forever grateful to my exceptional beta who took this hot mess of a chapter and crafted into something readable. Thank you!**

**The amazing reviews and feedback has blown me away! Thank you so much for all the wonderful and helpful things that you all have had to say! Please keep the awesomeness coming my way. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine. The fan fiction is for fun.**

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It is the middle of the night when I wake from a nightmare. Unfortunately, this is not unusual as dreams of my dad's fate weigh heavily on my subconscious at night. As the heavy sense of dread slowly dissipates, I realize there is a very actual weight on my chest. I am still propped up on the bed with my foot positioned on the pillows. From the light of the television I can see a mass of wavy blonde hair nestled in between my breasts. _Looks like someone made himself at home. _At some point between now, and when we fell asleep, Peeta threw an arm over my stomach and planted his face in my cleavage.

I don't know how he can possibly sleep like that because his nose is pushed into my sternum, and he is blowing hot air from the side of his mouth. The impossibly warm air easily makes its way through my thin tank top and something else inside me has also been awakened. With each breath Peeta exhales my heart races and my nipples harden. _Excellent._ My toes are radiating pain, and something entirely different is radiating from between my legs.

I raise my hand and thump him between the eyes to wake him. No response. I thump him again, harder this time. He responds by wrapping his arm around me tighter and nuzzling my tits with his head. _I would give anything for him to wrap his lips around my nipple._ Instead of the subtle thump I started with, I pinch him and finally get a response. Peeta moves to nuzzle into me again and then tenses suddenly as awareness of his location dawns. His head raises and slowly turns. In doing so the bottom of his lightly stubbled chin grazes my nipple through the fabric of my shirt. I inhale deeply and my thighs tighten on their own accord. _Friends. We are just friends._ I'm not sure why my body is betraying me like this. Gale use to visit on weekends and would share my bed because the couch is uncomfortable. I can't tell you how many times I would wake up and have to unsnarl myself from his grasp. Not one of those times led me to imagine sharing the things I want to share with Peeta right now.

Even in the darkness of the bedroom, Peeta's, voodoo blue eyes twinkle at me. He pushes himself up on his elbows and holds himself up, hovering over me. "I am so sorry." Peeta gushes, "I can't believe I fell asleep. I never go to sleep that early." I briefly entertain the idea of arching my back so that my tits will be right up near his face. I don't though, and Peeta lifts himself up off the bed and quickly turns his back to me. "I, uh, let me get you some crackers. You should really take some more medication but not on an empty stomach."

He turns around quickly but not so much that I didn't see what he was trying to hide. I tell myself that the wood he is sporting was because he liked what he saw when he woke. _Sure. Your unimpressive chest is all he needed to convince himself you aren't a complete tool after your hissy fit and subsequent broken toes._ Realistically, I know all men spend their REM cycles in varying degrees of erected excitement but that doesn't mean I can't imagine it was for me. I prop myself up, raise my eyebrows, and tilt my head towards Peeta. "Nice boner." I can't help myself, it was just too easy.

He shuffles around adjusting, murmuring to himself, and then exits the room. _Oops._ I didn't want to scare him away, especially, since my bladder is calling, and I still don't trust myself hobbling on one foot. I'm contemplating trying to get myself to the bathroom on my own when Peeta reappears. He sees that I'm trying to get up and rushes to help me. "Sorry for that. I was just teasing; it's fine I mean I know that men have urges."

"You're really one to talk." Peeta concludes as he hoists me off of the bed and moves me to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him as I move to take care of business while I am considering what he said. Peeta seemed like he was kidding, but then again it seemed like he was alluding to something I wasn't catching.

I wash up and then hobble to the door and open it. "What does that mean?" My arm wraps around Peeta's neck as he lifts me again.

Peeta smirks down at me like he has a gigantic secret. "It means that when I went searching for extra pillows in your closet I found your _friend_." _Oh_. The smirk is still plastered on his face, but he also looks a little nervous like maybe he crossed a line, or something suddenly made him feel awkward.

Peeta slips me down onto the bed and moves to prop my foot up again. I know exactly what he found. Should I act embarrassed or something? What is the appropriate response? Surely, Peeta knows that I masturbate. "A girl has needs. Not all of us are comfortable picking up strangers at a bar to have their sexual needs fulfilled."

"There you go again thinking you know all about me." His voice is strange, bordering on playfulness but with an edge.

What can I say; I like to play so I tease. "Peeta…My dear…" I hope that Peeta senses I'm being sarcastic. The guy who took a tongue lashing from me, watched me tantrum like a toddler and was currently nursing me back to health wasn't the type of guy who goes around boning lots of strangers, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with him. "You read like an open book."

Peeta's smirk is gone and his eyes are almost distant. I have actually lost the ability to read him right now. I really hope he knows I was just kidding. "Well since you know what I am like and everything about me, why don't _you_ tell _me_ about myself." He grabs a bottle of water off my bedside table and hands it to me, "But first, on a scale from one to ten, what is your pain level?"

Caring, dependable Peeta, no matter what is going on he still can't drop the nurturing thing. "Uh, maybe a two or three. Can I skip the meds? They make me feel fuzzy." If I've got Peeta in my bed, even oddly serious and platonic, I want to remember this. "Peeta, I was just fucking with you. I know you are too decent to pick up strangers."

"I'm going to give you two OTC pain meds and give it thirty minutes. If they haven't helped you really need to take the prescription stuff. In the meantime, please enlighten me about me." Peeta isn't dropping the nurse act or this stupid 'describe me to me' game. What am I supposed to do now? I'm stuck between continuing to tease him by implying promiscuity and taking this seriously. He seems to be flirting with me by talking like this and defending his honor, however, he doesn't have the playful Peeta look that I have come to recognize. For once, his eyes aren't doing that twinkling thing. No, they are earnest and clear, and he seems to be daring me to play this game with him. _Consider your challenge accepted, Mellark, let's do this._

"Well, let's see I bet you named your little girly man dog after Ernest Hemingway in homage to the fact he had four wives, and you have polygamist aspirations." I think the comment is pretty funny but Peeta scrunches his face at me and shakes his head.

"Uh, what?" He spits the words from his mouth. I think he may be getting irritated with me, but maybe if I keep showing him that I'm just messing with him he will relax.

"You know, because Hemingway had like four wives or something." I notice that Peeta is regarding me seriously. No smile. No laughter. What's the deal? It's true I remember that much about Mr. Hemingway. He had four wives, not at the same time but what is the deal, can Peeta no longer take a joke?

"You are so wrong." Peeta informs me.

"Okay, then why did you name him after dear old Ernest?"

He finally smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. The lines around Peeta's mouth are tight, and I continue to be unfamiliar with _this_ Peeta. "I guess you could say that I'm a sucker for an ill fated love story." I admit that I haven't really read much Hemingway past "The Old Man and the Sea," which I found tedious and long. I just look at Peeta hoping he elaborates because I'm pretty sure the tragic love story that he referred to wasn't in the tale I read. There is nothing in the world that I hate more than being wrong, and I'm afraid if I say something about his favorite story, and I'm wrong, then I'll never let myself forget it. So, what do I choose to do? Stare at him. Stare at him. And, stare at him until he gets the hint. It doesn't take long.

"Katniss, you look perplexed. You know I'm talking about 'A Farewell to Arms.' Don't you?"

I don't want to come off as a complete moron so I come up with the smoothest line I can think of, "Remind me." I wrinkle my nose hoping that the effect is lighthearted.

"The story is set during war time. A soldier seduces a nurse, and when he is wounded they fall in love. She becomes pregnant, but war and underlying circumstance keep them apart until they finally get to be together. The baby and the nurse both die in childbirth leaving the soldier alone." He pauses and starts picking at an imaginary thread on my comforter. "The beauty of the story is that in the grand scheme of things all love is fleeting, and with all good things you have to decide if the fleeting happiness is worth the eventual pain."

"That's the beauty?" Hell. I'm pretty sure that book is the complete opposite of beauty. "Shit, Peeta. That is hard hitting stuff for such a smiley guy."

"What can I say, I'm deep." The words slip from Peeta's mouth and he tries to grin it off, but I can see that what he intended as teasing was actually a confession. Will I ever truly know Peeta? " Keep going tell me more about me. I'm so intrigued." Apparently he believes that I already know him, or maybe we really are just playing one big game.

"Okay, I got this." I don't have this. My mind is blank as I try to come up with what I know about Peeta. I'm starting to think that everything I thought must not be the case. He seems like a really loving guy, I mean he is a nurse and all. You learn love from your parents so I'm assuming that he was surrounded by love in the Mellark household. "I bet that you come from one of those perfect little families that lives in an adorable house with shutters, a white picket fence, and a dog named after a literary giant."

"If only." He blurts out the 'if' loudly but the 'only' is barely audible on his breath.

Apparently, shit just got real. Peeta's entire demeanor has suddenly shifted. His face betrays everything that he is feeling, and I know that by mentioning the perfect family I have somehow pushed a button for him. He is nervously wringing his hands and seems to be waging an internal debate to tell me or change the subject. Peeta frowns, shakes his head, and opens his mouth. Nothing comes out of his mouth but a single tear trails down his cheek. I reach out, place my hand on his knee, and give it a small squeeze. I'm not sure where that came from because I am usually horrible in these situations, but I've inadvertently hit a nerve, and I want to protect him from wherever this pain is coming from. Seriously, I want to just beat the shit out of whatever has caused this sudden withdrawal, because I know it has to be serious to shut down a bubbly guy like Peeta. He starts rocking back and forth slightly, and continuously working his hands over and over as the tear is joined by another becoming a pair.

I pride myself on the fact that it is really hard for my heart to be broken, but in this moment I realize that it is completely obliterated. Peeta is in so much pain and it is my fault. I have to make it better, to make him better, but I'm not sure how. I have my own big secret that at times is so debilitating that I can't sleep at night. Gale knows because we share the big secret, and Johanna knows out of necessity, but am I really ready to bring Peeta in on this?

The magnitude of the moment hits me when I reach out and lightly pull my fingertip along Peeta's chin to get him to look at me. He grasps my whole hand in his, and cups it to his cheek. When he raises his eyes to look at me, my façade crumbles a little. This moment between us is so trusting and intimate. I cannot tell him my secret, but I feel an indescribable need _to_ tell him. When the words spill from my mouth I am not surprised, however unbelievably relieved to bear this burden with someone else. "My daddy died when I was fourteen. He was my hero. He was everyone's hero."

Peeta doesn't immediately offer condolences or common platitudes; instead, he leans forward with closed eyes and rests his forehead against mine. The gesture is the most intimate I have ever shared. Instead of freaking out I completely give myself to the feeling. I take Peeta's other hand in mine and raise it to my cheek imitating how he trapped my hand on his face. We sit there, breathing in one another, with hands clasped to cheeks and foreheads pressing against one another when my metaphorical dam breaks. Words spill out of my mouth before I can censor them, and I find myself revealing things that I haven't shared with anyone.

"He was a Fire Captain. They were fighting a nasty wildfire that had consumed thousands of acres and been burning for days. He refused to leave command central until word came over the radio that his best friend, and my best friend's dad, Lieutenant Hawthorne had collapsed from apparent heat exhaustion." The tears are slipping down my cheeks making it the second time in two days that I have cried in front of Peeta. "He left command central to assist. There were two volunteers sitting with Lieutenant Hawthorne when he arrived. They say he told them to get the tanker truck out of there. They say he told them the wind patterns were changing. They say he told them he would be fine. My Daddy wasn't fine. Gale's Daddy wasn't fine. Nothing was fine again."

As I finish, the tears are silently rolling down my face, and Peeta has moved to slide his arms around me. We sit there in silence as he holds me. I am lightened by my admission, but I can see that it is weighing heavily on Peeta.

* * *

…_.1999: 9 years & 11 years old_

Katniss pedaled furiously as she recalled overhearing Hazelle Hawthorne and her mom gossiping. When she arrived at her and Gale's meeting spot she threw her bike on the ground and charged at Gale where he was waiting on a large boulder beside the monkey bars. "Hawthorne, you have some explaining to do!"

An hour earlier, she had heard her mom talking to Hazelle in hushed whispers. The two women had been huddled together at the breakfast nook enjoying a glass of iced tea when she heard her and Gale's names being exchanged. Whatever they were talking about was very serious and when Katniss pressed herself against the wall to listen she was shocked to find out that Gale had been doing something in the bathroom with massive hairy elephants that made their mothers feel she and Gale could no longer have sleep over's.

"We knew this day would come eventually." Mrs. Everdeen stated as she topped off Hazelle's iced tea.

"I know." Hazelle agreed. "I just dread having to tell Katniss. They'll both be devastated, and I don't know how we can do it without making Gale feel bad about what happened."

"Poor kid. I can't believe you just walked in on him like that. I bet he was mortified."

"He won't even make eye contact with me, and every time I try to assure him that it's normal and not to be ashamed, he storms off to his room."

Gale could tell that Katniss was furious about something. She approached him with purpose, eyes narrowing and finger pointed directly at him. He immediately put up his defenses to her affront. "Why are you yelling at me?"

"Because you and your stupid mastodons have ruined everything!" Katniss' screamed placing special emphasis on the words 'you' and 'your' with her hands perched firmly on the sides of her hips.

Even though he was not sure what Katniss was talking about, Gale raised his voice to match hers, "I didn't ruin anything!" He paused, lowered his voice and then questioned, "Uh, Catnip, why are we yelling?"

"Your mom saw you mastadoning in the bathroom, and now we can't have sleep over's anymore. I don't know what the heck you were doing with supersized elephants, but apparently it was really serious and ruined EVERYTHING."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Gale knew exactly what Katniss was talking about. He was still reliving the shame of his mother catching him touching himself on a repeat reel in his head. Gale needed to change the subject, and the quickest way to get Katniss to drop one thing was to bring up something else that pissed her off. "I'm glad we can't have sleep over's anymore. Last time you stayed over you kept going on and on about that stupid book you were reading. Well, I have news for you; Robin Hood isn't even a real superhero!"

Katniss' anger at Gale blossomed into something even deeper. "Take it back!" Katniss angrily demanded. She was completely taken aback that he would say something like that to her. Gale knew how much she liked Robin Hood. He was a noble and kind hero who roamed the forest taking money from the rich and giving it to the poor with the aid of his bow and arrow. Robin was just like her real life hero, her daddy, who loved archery and helped people every day through his job. "Robin Hood is a man he doesn't need fancy gadgets to fight crime. He is the best type of hero."

"Psh. Some hero he is. Seriously, he doesn't fight it, he is the crime." The retort was weak and Gale knew it, but Katniss took it very seriously.

"Batman super sucks as a superhero because he relies on stupid fake gadgets to win."

"Are you serious? Batman would make Robin Hood his b-i-t-c-h." The fear of his mother soaping his mouth was very real, so Gale spelled the expletive carefully. "Case in point, he has a sidekick named Robin to do all the not important, and not hard, superhero stuff."

Katniss huffed over to her bike and glared at Gale, "Whatever, Hawthorne. It doesn't matter because we are done." Gale had known that he was treading in dangerous territory. His best friend was notorious for her ability to hold a grudge, but protecting his secret about what his mom had seen was more important. The little disagreement between two best friends resulted in a month long period of the silent treatment between them. In the end, Gale apologized first, and Katniss was so glad to have her friend back that she never revisited the subject of mastadoning or Robin Hood's superiority to Batman.

* * *

Prim's voice reaches my ear drums before my body even acknowledges that I am awake. Peeta and I stayed up talking about anything and everything until sunlight began to creep through the blinds. He is sleeping on his stomach right beside me. One of his arms is shoved underneath the pillow and the other is tangled with mine with his hand twined in my loose hair. After everything that I let loose on Peeta last night I should feel emotionally drained, but instead I feel great. I think that the few hours I slept with Peeta beside me were the best that I have slept in a long time.

"Katniss?" Prim calls cautiously. "I hope it's okay I let myself in. I know we can't go shopping but I thought I would come take care of you. Katniss?"

I take time to admire Peeta's sleeping form beside me. I really hate to wake him. Sleep has softened his features and he looks peaceful, the pain from last night erased. Even with the stubble dotting his defined jaw he appears almost childlike, and I am overcome by an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness towards him. Peeta isn't like me. He is open, loving, and giving despite having faced tragedy. I wish I knew what exactly that tragedy was, but I can tell he isn't quite ready to share, and I'm strangely okay with that. This is new for me. With anyone else I would demand answers, but with Peeta I want to deserve hearing his explanation. There is no denying that I want Peeta, but now I am becoming confused as to what I want him for. Originally it was just sex, but now is it more? _Would he even want more after how I've treated him?_

"Are you decent?" Prim asks through the door.

I'm confused as to why I need to be 'decent' for my sister to come into the room. I changed her diapers for fuck's sake. I just really need to go to the bathroom and I hate to wake Peeta. Prim won't mind once I explain that Peeta is just a friend, kind of like my 'new' Gale.

"Just get in here and help me get to the bathroom." The door pushes open. _Oh, fuck me_. Forget 'new' Gale because 'old' Gale is standing beside Prim, and both of them are staring at me like the blonde head beside mine on the pillow is a second head that I have sprouted. _What the hell is he doing here?_ "Hey guys. Um, this is my pal Peeta." I actually motion towards Peeta like a car show model. I can't even sit up all the way because Peeta's hand is wound in my hair and anchoring me to the bed. Gale turns and walks away and Prim just keeps staring at me.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I really love hearing from everyone so please let me know what you liked or didn't like! Also, I would like to recognize my pal, Rudolpho. Muchas gracias a mi amigo. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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As Gale recedes down the hallway Prim glances nervously around the room like she is unsure where to let her gaze fall. My baby sister is pretty clueless when it comes to men, but right now is not the time for her to reveal that she is too precious for this world. I really need to go to the bathroom and she needs to snap out of it and help me. "For chrissake, Prim. We aren't naked, you can look at us."

Prim's cheeks flush before she stammers out, "Your friend, huh?" There is an insinuation in her voice I can tell she is trying to hide, but I catch it. It is written all over her pretty little face. Prim thinks she has interrupted a one night rendezvous. _God, I wish_. I'm never going to live this one down.

"Yes, Primrose." Calling her by her full name should put her in her place; I mean who is the older sister here? "My friend Peeta." I am in the middle of enunciating 'friend' with a hard edge when I realize that Peeta has woken up and is finding this moment to be absolutely hilarious. That makes two sets of blue eyes trained on me, one filled with mirth and the other disbelief. "Peeta, this is my sister Prim. Prim, this is my friend Peeta. He's a nurse and was here when I hurt my foot so he wanted to stay and make sure I was okay." Peeta's mouth curls into an amused grin, and my stomach flutters in response. _What is happening to me?_ He rolls over and sits up extending a hand to my sister.

Prim takes his hand and smiles brightly, "Oh, wow! You're a nurse? I'm trying to get into nursing school right now." Prim gushes over Peeta's occupation like he is a celebrity on parade, "Well, I mean I'm waiting to hear back from them. I already had my interview."

Peeta returns Prim's smile, and it is so genuine I feel my stomach twist a little bit more, "That's fantastic! What program?" He asks as he stands and moves to help me out of bed, like taking care of me is second nature. _He's a nurse_; I shouldn't read anything into this because it _is his_ _second nature_. Prim starts chattering on about the program she has chosen and her work as a nurse assistant at a local nursing home. Peeta deposits me in the bathroom, and I hear him asking Prim all sorts of questions and demonstrating a real interest in her work with the old people at the home.

My breath is foul and my teeth are covered in sleep grime, they need a good brushing. As I lather up my pearly whites, I realize that Peeta is probably in the same predicament that I am oral hygiene wise, and I check to make sure that Johanna still has her stash of 'unexpected house guest' toothbrushes. When I open the bathroom door, the two of them are engaged deeply in conversation. "Peeta, could I interrupt for a minute?" I motion him inside the bathroom and go to grab an unopened toothbrush from underneath the cabinet then point him to the toothpaste.

"Hmm. So, I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay?" Peeta pokes me playfully in the side before taking the toothbrush. "I seem to remember it differently. See, I thought that I was going to leave and _someone_ asked me to stay."

Peeta starts scrubbing his teeth which gives me the perfect opportunity to let him in on how I'm feeling about his revelation. "Just so you know, I totally hate you." The edges of his mouth turn up and white foam escapes his lips. I want to be flustered at him but it is so hard when he is standing there looking adorable and slightly rabid.

He spits the excessive foam from his mouth, "Do I even want to know why you have a surplus of 'guest' toothbrushes?" Peeta's eyes dance and his smirk belies that he finds himself truly funny.

Ah, playing are we? Two can play this game. "Probably not." I get a wink in and turn to make my exit, cursing the fact that I have to hobble on my good foot and support my weight against the wall. It would have been a priceless dramatic exit if not for my damn foot. At the other side of the door, I find Prim waiting for me. She tosses an arm around my mid section and helps me down the hall. Before we reach the living room, she stops and looks at me, "He's so nice, Katniss. Promise me you'll go easy on him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can kind of be a witch when it comes to guys who like you. Don't even get me started on your boyfriends."

"I told you we are just friends."

Prim rolls her eyes at me. "Just friends? He seems like a great guy but not a doormat. I doubt he would stay to take care of you, over night, if he wasn't interested in being more than just your friend."

"Gale would." How dare Prim assuming she knows what my friendships are like. Gale and I took care of each other for years before the whole kiss debacle that ruined everything.

Prim does a saucy head shake that insinuates she isn't buying it. "My point exactly." I make a mental note to ask Prim about this later. It seems that somewhere along the way I missed something big. Everyone keeps insinuating this history between Gale and I, and I'm not exactly positive why. I mean, we kissed once briefly, but never wanted to go further than that.

Gale catches sight of Prim helping me into the living room and quickly stands to help her. "When Prim dropped by to say that you were hurt I wanted to check on you, but apparently you weren't feeling so bad that you couldn't enjoy a little company." He waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively and I know what he is playing at. In fact, I know what they are both playing at. Why is it so hard to believe that I spent the night with a man, and he didn't spend one second of it _inside_ of me? I mean, geez, I like sex just as much as anyone else but it's not like I'm always randomly hooking up with guys. Gale makes a sweeping motion to his left, similar to how I had with Peeta not twenty minutes earlier, and has the nerve to ask "Where is the blonde sleeping beauty?"

I make to shove Gale, momentarily forgetting about my foot, and when I go to put weight on my foot I end up face planting. I let out a howl while Gale and Prim look on doubled over in laughter. Peeta comes bounding around the corner, "Katniss! Are you okay?" when he sees me on the floor he makes a move to help me up but Gale beats him too it. He tucks an arm around me and pulls me to a standing position but doesn't let go. I feel like he is mother henning me or something, almost like I'm tucked under his wing. A few awkward seconds pass as Peeta and Gale size one another up trying to decide if the other is a threat to me when Peeta extends a hand, "Peeta Mellark" he barks in a voice that I haven't heard from him yet. It's deep, and different, and makes the muscles in my stomach tighten. _Hello_.

Gale stares at Peeta then extends his hand, "Gale Hawthorne" he too uses a gruffer voice than usual but I've heard this voice from Gale plenty. He has played at being my protector for years; it's the same voice he has used with my romantic interests. I can see why he is confused about Peeta, especially since he just found us in bed together.

What I can only describe as relief washes over Peeta's face. We spent a long time last night talking about Gale and our friendship. "I've heard so much about you. Katniss' best friend? Wow. The resemblance is uncanny!" A little bit of the tension leaves Gales face and Peeta continues, "Congrats on the upcoming nuptials, man, that's awesome." Peeta pushes a hand through his hair before turning to Prim. "I really need to get going but your sister here needs to take her pain meds consistently, or she will find herself in a world of pain. Make sure she eats, and there is prescription medication in there if the pain gets to be too much."

Prim is beaming. I can tell she has taken a liking to Peeta and is eating up the fact he is addressing her like a co worker. Peeta turns back to Gale, "It was nice to meet you Gale, I'm sure I'll see you again." He then nods to Prim, "It was really great to meet you as well, good luck and be sure to let me know when you get that acceptance letter."

I'm still tucked underneath Gale's wing when Peeta makes to hug me. Gale doesn't let go of me, and I don't trust myself to step forward so we do a very awkward dance where Peeta goes to slide an arm around my waist but can't find a way to do so without embracing Gale as well. He settles for a kiss on the forehead which embarrassingly enough makes my eyes flutter shut, and I feel myself swooning like a school girl with her first crush. He lets himself out the front door, and Gale finally releases me but only to start laughing uncontrollably. "What's so funny, Hawthorne!" My attempt at demanding answers falls short when my voice comes out more high pitch than I intended and squeaks.

There are actual tears sliding out the corners of Gale's eyes. I feel myself flushing and getting over the top pissed off. "What's the joke?" I demand and then I notice that Prim is doing her fair share of laughing too. I have to know what is so fucking funny that everyone is just sitting around laughing at my expense. I point a finger at Prim, "Care to let me in on it?"

"Oh, Katniss. Really?" My own sister is treating me like a big joke, _so much for familial loyalty_.

Gale straightens up and smiles. "Seriously Catnip, you are so obtuse." A fit of laughter pulls him back under, and he gives in to guffawing and giggling like I'm the funniest thing he has ever seen."Well _this _guy isn't your typical plaything is he?"

My arms fold over my chest and I raise my chin high. "Yeah, he's a lot of fun. We're good friends."

Gale raises one eyebrow at me. _Fuck._ He knows something is going on. "Oh, this is too rich. It's fitting, isn't it?" He looks at Prim as he says this and her head bobs up and down in agreement. "Care to enlighten her?"

"You. Like. Him." She is careful with each word, and I feel a little like a wounded animal she is trying to approach without scaring off. I stop to consider what they are saying. I do like Peeta. That is obvious in the way that my body responds to him whenever he is close. But, do I like him how they are insinuating? I'm not big on feelings and emotions, but there is a something I can't deny at play with Peeta.

I feel a hand on my elbow, and I turn to make eye contact with Gale. "Catnip, all playing aside, you know it is okay to let someone in besides me and Prim, right?" His features soften dramatically and he squeezes my elbow, "It's just, I worry about you, ya' know? Here all alone with just Johanna and Harper to keep you company. It's not a bad thing to make friends or even date a little." I don't know what to make of all this. Obviously, Prim and Gale think they have uncovered some big romance between Peeta and I, but there is no romance. I made sure of that the night I took my shirt off in front of Peeta and gave him the option to fuck or be friends. He chose friends. I have to honor that, right? It was my ultimatum, not his. For the first time I realize that I don't know how Peeta feels about me. He did choose friends over sex but I don't know if it was because he wasn't that attracted to me or because he preferred something deeper.

* * *

..._2004: 14 years & 16 years old_

The air was heavy with residual smoke and the smell of burning grass and timber. Intermittent dustings of ash and soot fell, thinly covering vehicles and dirtying windows. Gale and Katniss sat together on the front porch of the Hawthorne's home swinging on the porch swing. Katniss' legs dangled, unable to reach the cement below, Gale's feet planted firmly on the ground propelling the swing back and forth. Their mothers were inside preparing dozens of sandwiches and gallons of Gatorade from powder in large orange igloo coolers stamped with the letters 'FD.'

Katniss scooted her bottom to the very edge of the seat and used her toes to stop the swinging. "Momma said I could ride with you to deliver the sandwiches."

"Good. I bet your dad will be glad to see you. It seems like days since I saw them last." Gale leaned back causing the swing to tip up as Katniss fell backwards. The swing swooshed down quickly and then back up again as the teenagers lifted their feet and enjoyed the motion.

Katniss looked up from staring at her feet, "The wind changed a few hours ago, I think it was a good sign. I bet today is the day they get this one under control."

"Yup." Gale nodded in agreement as he continued to propel the swing back and forth with his long legs. Up the hill, a rescue response unit, essentially an old suburban painted fire truck yellow and emblazoned with the local number and maltese cross, came into Gale's eye line. "Looks like dad must be coming home to rest a bit; I bet your dad went home too."

Katniss raised her eyes to see where Gale was looking, "That's not your dad, that looks like the Chief and someone else."

Gale's heart dropped to his stomach as he realized it _was_ the Chief and someone else. He feared that someone else was a local minister that served as the Fire Department chaplain. He was old enough to know that it wasn't coincidental that the Chief would be driving down _his_ street in the company of a clergyman when _his_ dad had been out fighting grassfires for days. "Catnip, go inside now and get my momma." He demanded with urgency and worry evident in his tone.

Katniss ran inside and gathered Hazelle, the two joined Gale as the Chief was exiting the vehicle. He pulled his cap from his head and approached the trio. The man was obviously distressed as he wrung the cap in his hands and shook his head. "Gale. Katniss." He nodded to each before approaching Hazelle. "Why don't you kids run on inside and let me talk to Mrs. Hawthorne here? Katniss, is your mom here too?" Katniss nodded, unable to speak, she could tell that there was something serious at play here. "Could you send her out?" Katniss moved to go get her mother as Gale moved in protectively to stand beside Hazelle.

Mrs. Everdeen and Katniss reached the screen door just as Hazelle crumpled to her knees in front of the Chief. Gale kneeled and wrapped his arms around his mother, his head turning towards Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen with a stoic face as he motioned them outside to receive similar life altering news. Both families had lost their patriarch, and despite the fact that the question was never posed, the words never spoken, that day Gale Hawthorne took it upon himself to make sure that neither family ever wanted for anything.

A week.

Seven days is the time that it took for the state firefighter's safety committee to investigate and release the bodies for burial. A lot changes in seven days. Mrs. Everdeen became a shell of her normal self, Gale became a man, Hazelle burdened herself with comforting the younger children, and Katniss became hard to the world.

Two separate ladder trucks ,adorned with black bunting and burial apparatus, bore the flag draped coffins of Captain Everdeen and Lieutenant Hawthorne down Main street and onto the town cemetery. Hordes of firefighters, retired and active duty, along with police officers, EMT's, and other community servants lined the street outfitted in their dress blues to salute the fallen pair. All of the Hawthorne's, even the youngest Posey, rode in the cab of the truck bearing Lieutenant Hawthorne's body but the cab of Captain Everdeen's escort was missing a very important person, Katniss' mother. She refused to step out of the house, citing that she couldn't handle it, sending her young daughters to bear the burden of burying her husband by themselves. But, they were not alone. Prim and Katniss Everdeen had each other, and they had Gale Hawthorne and his family.

A fallen fire fighters funeral is one of pomp and ceremony. There are specific rites followed, words recited and respects paid. Bag pipers played and eloquent words were spoken, and lastly a bell rang signifying the last alarm the hero would respond to. As the color guard folded the flags draping the coffins of the lost, Hazelle stood to receive her husband's and Katniss stood to receive her father's, Gale was overcome with the knowledge that they were his to protect now, and protect them he would. Young Katniss was influenced in a completely different way. She saw the weakness of her mother and felt emptiness spread throughout her. In this moment, Katniss promised herself that she would never depend on another person. She would not allow herself to love, because loving led to loss, and she had lost enough already.

* * *

**A/N: I noticed a discrepancy between chapter 3 & 5, it has been fixed but my apologies if you noticed. **

**As always, thank you for the lovely reviews. This particular chapter was a struggle for me and I hope that you guys like it, I promise that things will be lighter in the next chapter.**

**Thank you so much to my wonderful beta! You complete me! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.**

* * *

After a few days of staying off my feet and being pampered by my sister and Peeta, my toes are feeling much better. Prim was owed some time off at her job so she stayed with me, and Peeta dropped in every day to check on me. Most of the time we would just curl up in bed and watch a movie, depending on his work schedule, he would either go home or go to work. He has not stayed the night again, and I have not asked him too. It's an odd thing, snuggling with a man and nothing more, but I find that I really enjoy just being around Peeta. Not only is he incredibly easy on the eyes, Peeta is wicked hilarious, genuine, and just a lot of fun to be around. More often than not I find myself with a bad case of the stomach butterflies when we are together. I'm not the only one who has noticed this; my baby sister goes out of her way to pester me with questions I'm not quite sure how to answer.

Johanna, Prim and I have been vegging on the couch since this morning watching terrible movies on the women's movie network. Usually we make fun of the outrageous story lines and horrible acting, but my sappy sister is a sucker for these movies so Johanna and I have been holding our tongues and letting Prim enjoy herself. We are a hour into a real dozy about a woman who finds out that she accidentally married her biological brother when Prim reminds me that she has to go back home for work tomorrow. _Damn._ Gale dropped her off so that means I'll have to drive her all the way home. That means today will be the first time in a long time that I haven't gotten my Peeta fix. Before I have time to ponder what my disappointment means Johanna offers to take Prim home citing that she had to work and had not been able to help with my foot. I'm grateful, but put forth just enough resistance to throw my best friend and sister off the scent of my excitement about possibly seeing Peeta.

"I'd like to leave around seven, is that okay with you Johanna?" Prim asks Johanna who confirms that will work for her and then trains her eyes on me. "You should call Peeta and see what he's doing tonight. He said he was off shift for the next few days."

_Play it cool, Katniss, play it cool._ "Oh, I'm sure he will show up at some point." I think I executed that with enough indifference that no one can tell that internally I'm debating whether or not they will leave soon enough that I can sneak in a shower and maybe do something with my hair besides braid it.

"Don't you want to see him tonight?" My baby sister is determined to hear me say it, isn't she?

"I guess. I hadn't really thought about it." This is a complete lie. I've been thinking about when the next time I'll get to see Peeta is since he left yesterday.

Prim is getting ready to butter me up for something, I can tell in the way she has lowered her chin and is batting her eyelashes. "You really need to thank him for everything he's done for you."

"He hasn't done any more than you." I'm treading in dangerous territory here. If I go on the defensive too much, Prim will see right through it, but if I act too eager she will be all over that as well.

"Yeah, well I'm your sister. You should take him to dinner or something." _Dinner._ Now there is a novel idea. I could do dinner with Peeta. In fact, I'd love to actually go somewhere and have dinner with Peeta. He has been cooking for Prim and I, and bringing us take out.

_Don't act excited, don't let her know, play it cool._ "Good idea, sis. Maybe I'll take him somewhere nice as a thank you for all the food he has been supplying the past few days." Perfect. _It's not a date_; it's a thank you for taking care of me. Not to mention the bonus of getting to be with Peeta without anyone else around.

Prim smiles at me and its sticky sweet, "Aw! It's you guys first date." _Frack_. It's like she knows me better than I know myself. I thought I had mastered an air of indifference, _guess I was wrong_.

"I told you Prim, it's complicated. I kind of messed things up from the beginning, and because of that we are just friends." Do I admit to my sweet sister that I tried to date rape Peeta and then yelled at him and told him we could only be friends? _Nah._ Probably best to keep that to myself.

Prim is making the face she makes when she is debating whether or not to say something. I wish she would just spit it out already; I'm quickly tiring of this conversation. Johanna decides to fill in the blanks, "Everdeen, in the years I've known you I've never seen you act the way you do when you're around Peeta." I didn't even know she was paying attention to what Prim and I were discussing.

My face is flushing and I'm trying to keep myself from reacting, but it is getting really difficult. I'm not mad at Johanna, I'm mad at myself. I'm pissed because I screwed the thing with Peeta up before I even knew what I was missing out on. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Chill out tiger, it's not a bad thing." Johanna has her feet thrown up onto the coffee table, and she's twirling the television remote through her fingers nonchalantly. I'm about to ask her again what she means since she didn't answer my question when I feel Prim sit beside me on the couch.

"You seem more relaxed, you don't talk like a sailor all the time, and most importantly you smile more. I like seeing you this way." Prim's cheeks are tinged pink, and I can tell it took a lot for her to say that. _Are those things important to her?_ I'm not sure why it matters to her if I'm nice and less crass, but what's important to her, by default matters to me. "After everything we've been through you deserve a bit of sunshine." She hands me my cell phone. "Just text him."

Prim is right. Both she and I deserve happiness after the hell my mom put us through. Without Gale and Hazelle we probably would have ended up in foster care. She may be onto something about Peeta, having him around has lightened things. He seems to glide so effortlessly through life. Since our heavy discussion the night I hurt my foot I haven't glimpsed the sadness he had that night, and I'm beginning to wonder if it was the drugs addling with my mind or if Peeta really does carry around his own tragedy. "You're right, little duck." I concede. Prim wrinkles her nose at her childhood nickname but grins as I take the phone from her.

* * *

Dinner is not going well. _Not well at all_. The evening started well enough, but somewhere between him picking me up and the restaurant things got really weird. Peeta showed up early while I was still getting ready. He seemed normal at that time and requested to take a look at my toes before I got dressed. While Prim and Peeta talked, Johanna helped me fix my hair and let me borrow her favorite skirt. I was happy with the result, I mean; I looked like myself but a more polished, girly version of myself. Peeta had not seen this Katniss since the night at the bar. Unfortunately, the confidence that my appearance had given me was quickly fading as Peeta and I awkwardly stumbled through dinner conversation. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm getting pissed off.

"You didn't have to agree to come, if you didn't want to Mellark." I interrupt his discussion of the different types of dinner rolls this particular restaurant offers.

Peeta looks startled. His heavenly blue eyes appear confused. "What?"

"You heard me. I don't know what's going on but you are acting peculiar, and you keep glancing away from me when I'm talking." My hands are clenching my napkin on my lap. I'm really irritated, and the fact that Peeta's cheeks are flushing a beautiful pink while the candle on the table is reflecting in his eyes doesn't help. He looks amazing but his attitude sucks. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something?" I want him in the worst possible way, but it's obvious he doesn't feel the same. _Peeta can't even look at me._ I'm ready to really let loose on him when he mumbles something and over the blood pounding in my ears I can't hear him. "What did you say?"

"I said you look gorgeous." _Oh_. I was not prepared for a compliment when I was intent on griping him out. "Your hair, your outfit, even the way you smell is different tonight. It's overwhelming how beautiful you are on a normal day, but tonight it is like staring into a flame." Peeta's eyes never leave mine as he complimented me, and I'm not sure if it is his words or his heated stare that causes my stomach to flop, but I suddenly find myself no longer hungry.

_This is too much_. I look away but can still feel Peeta's eyes on me. "Thank you." I whisper. I wish I could say more because Peeta's words deserve more than expected social convention, but what he said really hit me. No one has ever given me a compliment like that, _ever_. I believe him. It goes against everything I have ever believed about men, but in this moment I know that Peeta isn't feeding me lines he really does think I'm beautiful.

"I've wanted to say that all night, but I was afraid of how you would respond." Peeta is wearing a half grin. His eyes are smiling but his mouth is set in a straight line.

I feel my mouth curl into a smile. Peeta knows me so well. "I guess I'll allow it."

"You'll allow it, huh?" Peeta gives me that full cocky grin that I love so much and then suddenly everything is back normal between us. No more awkward, just the easy banter that has come to mark our interactions, but there is also that little twinkle in Peeta's eyes every so often when I catch him looking across the table at me.

We get into Peeta's Jeep to leave and I realize that I don't want the night to end. The idea of Peeta not being with me leaves me feeling incredibly empty and undeniably sad. _Does he feel the same?_ It's like he senses my unease, "Everything ok? You just got uncharacteristically quiet."

"Yeah, everything is fine." I want to ask him to stay, _but is that crossing a line?_ Just because he thinks I'm pretty doesn't mean he wants to stay with me. This whole mess is so confusing. "You want to stay tonight?" Might as well go for it, right? Peeta doesn't say anything until we pull into my driveway. I'm getting incredibly self conscious and working really hard not to lash out because I'm hurt, when I feel Peeta's thumb stroke my cheek. "Katniss, why do you want me to stay?" His voice is soft, and I find myself leaning into his hand, despite fearing his rejection.

"I like being around you, Peeta." I could not give him a more honest answer if I wanted to.

"Prim mentioned something about this being a date, was it?" I close my eyes and will myself to come up with the right words. _Damn you, Prim! _I wish I knew if he wanted it to be a date. I don't want to lie to him but I also don't want to scare him away. "Because if it was, I would really like that."

I breathe a sigh of relief and open my eyes. Peeta's face is inches from mine and I think he is going to kiss me, but instead he leans his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. "Can I get a do over on being friends or having a sexual relationship?" I stutter out.

Peeta pulls his face away but his eyes stay connected with mine. "So, you're willing to make an exception for me?"

"I guess so. You confuse me, and I want to figure this out."

His face falls at my honesty but quickly recovers. "Fair enough."

"Are you coming inside?" I try to mask the desperation I feel, but I'm not sure I pull it off.

"I'll walk you to the door, but I'm not coming inside tonight. I don't trust myself with you looking like that." We get out of the Jeep and walk to the door. I feel like I'm back in high school and on my first date. I want him to kiss me, but he said he doesn't want to come inside. He did also say he wanted to date, didn't he? I'm confused but I'm just going to go with it. The butterflies in my stomach are in overdrive, and I don't want to push my luck.

We stand under the porch light and Peeta takes both of my hands in his. "I had a really good time tonight. You look stunning."

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself, blue eyes."

He smiles at me and I feel his finger tilt my head up at him. I think he is going to kiss me. _Peeta better kiss me._ I am so ready. Peeta leans down towards me, and his lips connect briefly with mine and linger there for just a second before he withdraws. His kiss, albeit fleeting, sears my lips and millions of tiny sparks catch flame all over my body. "Good night, Katniss."As my skin burns, I hear Peeta bid me goodnight but I'm still standing there with my eyes closed enjoying the sensations coursing through my body. I open my eyes as Peeta's lips connect one more time with my forehead and I watch him walk away.

"Goodnight, Peeta." I murmur to myself long after his tail lights have disappeared into the black night.

* * *

I'm waiting on Peeta. _That's a loaded statement. _What exactly am I waiting on Peeta for? The answer to that question depends on what my mood is at the moment. Currently, I'm waiting on his arrival. Peeta is coming over to watch a movie and share a meal. But, that isn't the only thing I'm waiting on Peeta for. I am also waiting for him to quench the fire he ignited inside of me the other night. I'm not sure how tonight will go but I do know that it needs to go differently than how our last few dates have gone.

Peeta is driving me insane. Before this whole thing is over I am pretty sure that I will go crazy from the chaste kisses and lack of nudity between us. The first kiss goodnight left me in a tailspin. I could understand where he was coming from with that one, he was being a bit of tease which is fine with me but at some point the tease has to pay up. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I thought our physical relationship would escalate from there. It hasn't. No, it is still in a standstill from that night that I admitted I was interested in giving dating a try. If this is what Peeta considers dating I may as well go back to being his buddy because at least then he accidentally felt me up at night. _Good god I could go for some feeling up right about now. _

Harper stands and goes to the door wagging his tail signifying Peeta's arrival. I don't immediately get up to greet him because if he is so dead set on making me wait then maybe he should wait for awhile. I've got a game plan tonight. I'm playing this as cool and aloof as I can, and I am going to make Peeta come to me for once. I ignore the knock on the door and continue to sit on the couch. Peeta doesn't bother knocking again and instead lets himself in.

"I promise I knocked first. I'm not barging in." Peeta is wearing a giant grin and low slung jeans that are snug on his hips in an enticing way. _I doubt he is even aware how sexy he really is._ I pretend to be unfazed by his presence and nod hello. He tosses some Thai take out onto the coffee table. "Thanks for letting me bring Hemingway. My brother gets tired of looking after him."

"Really? I wonder why." I'm copying Johanna's infamous sarcasm, and Peeta doesn't miss it for what it really is as he rolls his eyes. He excuses himself to wash his hands, and I tear into the red curry even though I know it's Peeta's.

"What's up with you tonight?" He asks as he takes a seat on the couch. I turn and scowl at him and then shove more food in my mouth. "Seriously, what's gotten into you? I've gotten used to regular Katniss not the moody and broody Katniss of before the foot incident."

I glare at Peeta trying my best to keep a straight, yet angry face. "I'll tell you what hasn't gotten into me." As I say this I deliberately cast my eyes towards the crotch of those fantastic jeans he is wearing. Peeta responds by choking on a mouthful of pad thai before spitting it into a napkin.

I worry that I may have pushed it too far until Peeta starts cracking up. "There's my girl."

"Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" As I query Peeta I watch his face closely looking for any indicator of emotion that will let me know where I stand with him. He appears disappointed. _Bingo._ Someone cares; well at least he appears to care because my words make him frown. It was a little bit underhanded to play that card, but I had to know. _Time to make it up to him._ "I mean, I'm definitely not anyone else's girl, but maybe I'm ready for you to stake your claim. You know, mark your territory."

"Katniss it's not that I don't want you, because I do. More than you know." _Then show me_. "But, I want to take things slow. We have all the time in the world."

"Just because we have all the time in the world doesn't mean we have to use it. I want you Peeta, I want you bad." It doesn't get any clearer than that. _Is it not the same for him as it is for me?_ He isn't the one whose skin feels like it catches fire every time we kiss, he doesn't know what it is like to soak his underwear from one innocent kiss. I want Peeta more than any man I've ever been around.

Peeta's jaw is clenched, and he has rolled his bottom lip into his mouth. "Would it make you feel better to know that it takes everything I have to leave you at night?"

It makes me feel a little better, but still doesn't explain anything. "Then, why do you leave?"

"I'm afraid that if I kiss you how I want to kiss you then I won't be able to stop." Peeta puts his food container on the coffee table and scoots as close to me as he can without sitting on my lap.

I follow his lead and place my container right beside his. "I'm okay with that." Not only am I okay with that but my body is screaming for it.

"Well, I'm not. I want the first time we are together to mean something. I want it to be special." He reaches forward and tugs the band loose from my braid and begins to unweave my hair. "If it's anything less than making love, I would never forgive myself because that is what something like_ this_ deserves. I know you're not there yet, and I'm not going to push you, but I want us to have a real relationship and intimacy before we are intimate."

I'm not sure how I feel about this chivalrous thing Peeta has going on. He seriously just suggested waiting for sex until we were ready to make a commitment. _Seriously_. I want him to realize that he doesn't have to protect me, or whatever misguided force makes him think waiting forever is a good idea. I want to be with him, and to be honest I actually prefer sex without commitments. "Peeta, it's not like you have to protect my maidenhood or anything. My cherry was popped a long time ago." Those lovely blue eyes of his widen in surprise before his jaw tenses, and he brusquely shakes his head side to side.

Peeta unclenches his jaw and stops shaking his head long enough to purposely roll his eyes at me. "God, Katniss, do you have to be so crude?"

Okay. I admit, that was probably too far, but I feel a little closed in and my first instinct is to protect myself. In this instance sarcasm and vulgarity seem to the best way to go, and before I can stop myself the words mockingly roll out of my mouth, "Oh my god, Peeta, do you have to be such a girl?"

"If being respectful and wanting something deeper with you than just a sexual relationship makes me a girl, then yes, I guess I do." Peeta's proximity and words have my stomach rolling. _Emotions and sex_, it's something I haven't tried, but if it means being with Peeta maybe I should.

"Here, let me try and make this easier for you to understand." Peeta's hands are gently combing through my now loose hair distracting me. "You like sex, correct?"

_What kind of question is that?_ "Of course."

"You like me?" I stare at him for a bit and his hands stall in my hair. _Is this a loaded question?_ I'm not quite sure how to answer it, "Okay, let's try it this way. I like you Katniss. I think you are funny, loyal, and passionate. I also appreciate that you are real, and I know that what I see is what I get. There is just something about you I can't seem to shake and believe me I have tried." This is news to me; I guess I'm not the only one waging an internal debate. Peeta tugs on the ends of my hair in a playful gesture, but his next question is extremely serious. "Have you ever had a sexual relationship with someone you had true feelings for?"

"No." Under Peeta's close scrutiny I am almost ashamed to admit it, but the truth is that I have never been in love or been with someone I felt deeply for.

"Believe me when I say that when feelings are involved, the sex is much better." At least I now know that Peeta isn't a virgin, but I feel a tinge of something when I think about Peeta being involved with anyone sincerely.

The words that fly out of my mouth reveal more about me than I would have preferred, but it isn't like I can take them back. "Yeah, but when that person disappears, it hurts that much more. That's why I don't mix the two."

My desire to leave is overwhelming. The urge to run and hide is taking over. This evening isn't going anything like I planned. I wish Peeta wasn't making me confront all these _feelings_. That coupled with the fact that I am irrationally jealous of whoever the girl is that Peeta found out that 'feelings sex' was better than fucking, is making me extremely uncomfortable. I focus on the jealousy because it is an emotion that I understand and isn't scary.

I scoot back from him, "So, you've done it then?" my tone is serious, and Peeta has to know that the time for jokes and fun is behind us now.

"Been in love?" He looks at me earnestly and answers the question without saying a word. My heart crumbles. _Whoever she is I hate her_. I'm not sure why it matters, but it does the idea that Peeta has been in love with someone is unbearable to me.

I can't meet his eyes so when I say what I want to get out, I say it to my feet. "Well, uh, yeah. So then you've had sex with someone you loved." _I don't want to know, I don't want to hear this_. I'm not even sure I can handle his answer and I don't know why. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

He reaches for my hand and grasps it with his. Peeta's hands are unusually warm, but not sweaty, and I appreciate the warmth as our conversation has left me cold. "Katniss, I've had it both ways, and for me it is difficult to separate feelings and sex." _What part of 'I don't want to know' did he not understand?_

This conversation has gotten out of hand. I want to run, but Peeta's large hands are anchoring me to the couch. I create a distraction by leaning in and kissing him quickly on the mouth. "Okay. I concede no sex. But, can we please do something other than _precious_ kisses."

Peeta's eyes flicker before he leans forward and captures my lips with his, I feel him open his mouth slightly and I mimic the action with mine. When I feel the first brush of his tongue against mine electricity shoots through my body, warmth pools in my belly, and wetness gathers in my underwear. He is a fucking amazing kisser. _Amazing_. I wrap my hand around his head and pull his head in an attempt to deepen the kiss when he suddenly pulls away.

"There are two rules you have to agree to follow before we continue kissing. Kissing is fine, but at all times clothes must remain on, and hands have to stay out from underneath clothing." I'd give Peeta anything he asked for in that moment as long as he promised to continue kissing me.

"Of course. I said I would try, didn't I?" Peeta doesn't even wait for me to finish my sentence before he is kissing me again. He pulls me astride his lap, and my legs straddle him as I finally get a chance to truly taste him. Peeta's lips are slightly chapped, his mouth tastes like the tangy sauce from his noodles, and his beautifully stubbled chin is rough against my skin. I am in heaven. We neck like teenagers until Johanna suddenly walks through the door. I stay on Peeta's lap to help him hide his hardness but turn to face her. I wait for the sarcasm to come, but it never does. Instead she shakes her head back and forth and silently laughs to herself as she shuts herself in her room.

Peeta buries his face in my neck. "So, is the mood completely ruined or what?" It may have been two minutes ago, but when Peeta talks his breath is hot against my pulse point, and his stubble rubs against my skin. My senses are already heightened from the fantastic dry humping session we had going on so as the shadow of his beard runs against my skin I moan slightly and buck my hips a little.

A wicked look comes over Peeta's face. His eyes are dancing, and he is wearing that smirk again. "We could move to your room for a bit. You've been such a good sport about everything I think you deserve a little reward." _Shit._ Peeta is attractive, smoking hot, but something about the way he talks to me gets to me more than any make out session ever could. I can't wait to find out what type of reward he can give me without removing clothing or going underneath it.

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**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, they really do mean the world to me! Sorry to those of you who love the Gale flashbacks, I promise there will be one in the next update. There was more to this chapter but my phenomenal beta will be unavailable for a few weeks so I wanted to save something so we wouldn't have to go so long between updates. This seemed like a natural pausing point.**

**As always, please let me know what you think! I cherish every thought and criticism! :)**

**To my betarific beta fish, I appreciate all that you do!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but the plot is mine.**

**Warning: Proceed with caution…I finally went _there_ (M status).**

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_2005: 15 years & 17 years old…_

The boy was handsome. He wore a letter jacket, despite the overbearing warmth of the muggy, late spring nights. His light brown hair was cropped close to his head. When he smiled at her she couldn't help but smile back. His grins were toothy and filled with metal orthodontia; hers had become so foreign that when she returned his, her cheeks ached in opposition. There wasn't anything particularly special about the boy, but the way he made Katniss feel was _different. S_he liked it because it made her forget. It felt good to act like other girls her age and leave the weight of the world behind her, so when he kissed her outside of the school she eagerly pressed back and welcomed the feel of his tongue in her mouth.

Home was no longer her sanctuary. When she walked through the door, she was greeted with dirty dishes, laundry and a Momma who had also become a chore. Even when Katniss closed her eyes, she found herself unable to conjure the warmth of her Daddy's presence that used to fill their home. That fact alone caused tears to sting her eyes. But, the evening following her first kiss was _different_. She found herself pausing and pressing her fingers to her lips and she relished in the tingle that was still present from where his lips connected with hers. For the first time since her Daddy was taken from her, Katniss was able to honestly answer when Hazelle asked how her day was and she found that she did not become frustrated when her Momma refused to eat dinner.

The following day, she suspected her classmates were looking at her more than usual. Katniss rubbed her face searching for leftover breakfast, straightened her braid, and even glanced at her backside to make sure she hadn't unexpectedly started her period. When he brushed past her at lunch she tried not to let it bother her. _Maybe he didn't see me_, Katniss told herself, knowing that he had see her. In gym, none of the other girls would make eye contact with her and when she heard them snickering, intuition told Katniss that it was her that they were laughing at.

By the time she cornered him at his truck after school she was fuming. Katniss screamed at him and asked why everyone was laughing at her. He avoided her eyes as he admited that his affections for her were feigned. His teammates had a poll going about whether or not the unsmiling girl had ever been kissed. He admited that as a means of proving that he deserved the letter on his shoulder, he was chosen to seek her out and kiss her to settle the debate. _Nothing personal_, he assured her even though everything about taking her first kiss was personal. _I told them you were actually pretty nice_, he placated as though that made his betrayal more palatable. Katniss shoved him into the door of his truck and yelled at him to not even bother offering up that they could still be friends. It wasn't until later when she was tucked into her bed did she realize that he had not planned on offering to pretend to be her friend.

This hurt was _different_. There was nothing remarkable about the boy. She thought she liked him, but really she barely knew him. Katniss had just enjoyed the way he made her feel. While his actions and words brought her to tears she has a hard time deciding what hurts more; the fact that she fooled herself into believing she could be like every other teenage girl, or that she let herself get caught up in a boy.

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The first fingers of sunlight had just begun their trek across the morning sky when the inherited farm truck pulled into the Everdeen driveway and bleated the horn. Being at school early ensured that the Everdeen girls would receive a free hot breakfast, since their mother was unable to rouse herself from bed most days the responsibility of getting them there fell on Gale. He didn't mind. The girls are family and they spent most of their waking hours at his house anyway.

Most days Gale wished that they would just take his mothers offer and move into his house with them, eat the breakfast his mom made, and then they could all ride to school together. Instead, he got up early and took the girls to school before returning home to take his brothers and sister. It wasn't like Mrs. Everdeen would care, Gale bitterly thought that she would probably appreciate the girls not being there so she could focus on lying in bed and staring at nothing. But, Katniss refused to be a 'charity' case. He once pointed out that taking free lunches from the school was taking charity. All that had accomplished was creating a rift between him and his best friend as she struggled to point out how it was just _different_.

Prim ran out to the truck, threw open the door but didn't make a move to get in. "Morning Gale. Katniss says she doesn't feel well and you know Momma isn't much for making us go to school, but something is wrong." Prim sat her back pack on the seat. "I don't think her throat hurts, like she is saying; will you talk to her?"

Gale twisted the key in the ignition to turn the truck off, "sure, Primmy." As he followed Prim into the dark house, he was reminded of a different time when the house was warm, welcoming, and radiating love.

He hadn't made it very far into the house before Katniss called from the hallway closet, "I told you Prim, I'm not going to school. Have Gale get my assignments!"

"See! She wouldn't be screaming if her throat hurt as bad as she says it does." Prim cupped her small hand to her mouth and whispered at Gale.

Gale knelt in front of the closet door and rapped twice on the door. "Catnip, open up! I want to take your temperature and see if you have a fever." The door to the closet clicked open to reveal a somber Katniss. Gale immediately recognized the distressed look on her face as something other than sick.

"Prim, run on out to the truck while I talk to Katniss." Prim hesitantly peeked in at her sister, who nodded her approval at this plan before the younger girl took leave. Gale turned his attention back to his pajama clad best friend sitting in the closet. "Spill it."

Katniss pulled her father's hunting jacket up around her chin. "Maybe I just feel like play hooky today, what's wrong with that?" Her speech was muffled from talking through the leather, but Gale understood perfectly.

He reached in and tugged the collar of the jacket down so he could see her mouth. "Catnip, you can't hide from me. Tell me what's really going on."

Her eyes meet his and her resolve faltered. If she couldn't talk to Gale about _this_ then she wouldn't be able to talk to anyone. "I will. But, make sure Prim gets to school first. I can't stand the idea of her not having breakfast on account of me."

Katniss' voice faltered on Prim's name and tears threatened to fall, effectively tugging on Gale's heartstrings. He would do anything to prevent her from feeling any pain. "Only if you let me play hooky with you and promise to tell me what has you in such a funk."

"Deal." Katniss stated, as she raised her palm to her mouth and kissed the scar that matched Gale's.

When Gale told Hazelle that he needed her to call the school truancy officer for him and Katniss, she didn't say a thing except not to go anywhere they would be seen. He pulled into the driveway for the second time that morning and Katniss ran out and jumped in the cab. "Feeling better?" Gale asked and Katniss burst into tears. "Oh, Catnip what's wrong?"

"Just drive. Let's go to the fishing hole."

The fifteen minute drive seemed to take forever, but Gale used the time to silently compose words that he thought would be comforting to his best friend. Surely her distress was about missing her dad. He missed his dad every single day.

They sat with their legs dangled from the tailgate as they stared out at the water. Katniss took comfort from the fact that she could just be around Gale and feel better. Everyone else was so difficult to be around, even Prim at times, but Gale was the only one who understood what it was like to be the eldest and deal with the burden that losing their fathers had left them with. Her problem that morning seemed trivial to everything else that had been forced upon her in the past year. But, that was the true problem. She had allowed herself to be caught up in the feeling of being fifteen and really being able to act her age. It had been a mistake to think that she could be a normal teenage girl. Her heart stung with the bitterness that his rejection had caused to well inside her.

She should be able to talk to her mom about these things, but her mom was so far removed from reality there was no way that was happening. The words spilled from her mouth, "I thought he liked me. Like really liked me but it was all a mean joke, and it hurts, and I know he is a jerk but he should have never kissed me. Why are boys so mean?" She whined the word 'mean' and in that moment seemed entirely like the fifteen year old girl she deserved to be. Gale realized that this problem was of a different sort than he was prepared to deal with. He felt anger, he felt rage, and he didn't even have the full story yet.

"What? Who? Slow down and tell me, I swear I'll kill the little son of a bitch, whoever he is." _How dare a boy break her heart after all that she had been through?_ Gale was careful not to say the last sentence out loud. He knew Katniss would not appreciate it. "That little fucking prick, just wait till I get my hands on him."

"Gale, listen."

Her tear stained face pulled him from his rage. "I'm listening." He snaked an arm around her and pulled her close so that her head rested on his shoulder. As Katniss poured her heart out it took everything that Gale had to keep focused on what she was saying. He didn't even know that Katniss thought about boys like how she thought about _that _boy. When her rant winded to an end she sighed and let her head relax against his shoulder Gale knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"You know those fairy tales that Posy and Prim love so much where the princess has to kiss a frog to find her prince? Well, consider this douche bag your first in a long line of frogs, Catnip." Gale knew that Katniss heard him because she sniffled and wiped her nose into the shoulder of his shirt.

Her silence unsettled, for once she was listening to him and he didn't know what the right thing to say was. "You are one of the prettiest, most genuine girls I know. I'm not just bullshitting you, Catnip, you are something special. This ass may not realize how great you are, but some day you'll find a guy. He will be lucky to have you and he will know it. Right now is not that time. That's okay because it will just make that time when you find your prince so much more special."

They sat together silently and watched fish flop in the pond and listened to the wind push through the branches of the tree. Neither one spoke another word, each was caught in their own thoughts.

Katniss was left wondering what it meant that she hoped she never met the prince Gale spoke so fondly of. Her first taste of love left an acidic taste in her mouth, and made her realize how weak liking someone truly made you.

Gale entertained the idea that maybe he would be that guy for Katniss. She was strong, but in the preceding moments she had revealed that she possessed a beautiful fragility. That fragility made Gale want to protect her and care for her forever. He just wasn't quite sure what type of forever he wanted with her yet.

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_Present Day, 2012….._

Peeta slides down my body until he is kneeling in front of me with a mischievous grin. _Oh my God, what is he doing? _I watch as he unlaces my right sneaker and then the other with his nimble fingers, and I briefly imagine the things that those fingers could tease from me. My shoes are now unlaced so I move to sit down and kick out of them, my intention being to pull Peeta on top of me and resume the make out session from the living room.

"Don't sit, not yet. Let's see how long you can stay standing." Peeta's voice is husky and hard, and I'm not quite sure what he is asking, but I realize that in this moment I am his to do to as he pleases. I'm not sure what to say, so I don't say anything.

Peeta wraps a warm hand around my ankle and gently pulls on it until I get the hint and lift my foot up out of my shoe. He quickly strips the sock and then repeats the action with my other foot. His fingers skate around my ankle bone lightly, it _almost_ tickles and _definitely_ causes a small ache to form between my legs. My eyes close in response, and my head lulls back. Peeta has barely touched me and already I can't deny that this is unlike anything that I have ever done before. I feel a small stirring in my stomach, as he continues working small swirling motions with both hands around my ankle bones before tracing up my calves and back down again.

"Remember we have rules," Peeta's words reach through my arousal induced fog, and I open my eyes to look at him, "The rules were kissing is okay as long as the clothes stay on, does that sound right?" His fingers continue ghosting the skin of the backs of my calves, knees, and my thighs. He is reaching just slightly above where the hem of my skirt falls on my knees, and I can feel goose bumps spring up all over my skin, especially where his hands are paying the closest attention to.

The sensation building in my stomach makes it hard for me to find words, but I try and respond. "Uh, well I mean," Fuck the rules. _Seriously._ Fuck them. "Uh, rules were made to be broken."

"Not our rules, Katniss. Not yet." I look directly at him, confused by what he means. _Where are we going with this?_ Then he makes another demand that I find myself blindly following, "Balance yourself by holding onto your vanity chair." As I grasp onto the back of the chair I find myself watching as Peeta positions my leg with the hurt foot up over his shoulder. I groan deeply as Peeta places a kiss behind the crook of my knee and then runs his tongue along the crease before ending with a small bite when he reaches my kneecap. "We are going to play a little game. If you can stay standing for the next ten minutes, we will do whatever you want. But, if you find yourself unable to stand, for whatever reason, than we follow the rules we agreed to, and you drop this 'I don't do feelings' routine."

I would do anything to get him to continue with the slow torture he has started by barely touching me. "Seems fair," I have a hard time keeping my eyes open as Peeta's fingers creep further up my thigh than before, "but just know that I'm used to standing for long periods of time for work." His index finger is tracing the edge of my underwear but I know he is just teasing. The 'clothes stay on rule' was his, and he admitted he isn't ready to break it merely minutes in. With Peeta it is seems games are the weapon he chooses to use to make me open up to him, and this is one I am ready to play. "You're going down, Mellark." I smirk and Peeta slips his tongue between his lips and drags it from my knee to the hem of my skirt before returning the smirk with a cocky grin of his own.

"My plans exactly." He purrs as his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle. Peeta lifts my soft, cotton skirt and slips his head underneath it. _Yes. God, yes_. This is what I have been waiting for, and I can't believe that it is happening like this. Technically, he is breaking the rules by being under my skirt, but I'm too enthralled and aroused to point this out. My stomach clenches in anticipation, and I wait for the feeling of Peeta tugging at my panties to pull them from my frame, but it never comes. Instead I feel a surge of hot air blowing against my panties as Peeta's fingers dance over the expanse of my thigh. His other hand gently holds the leg I still have planted on the floor.

All the air from my lungs whooshes out of my lips and my knee quivers as Peeta blows onto the front of my panties. He knew exactly what he was doing when he positioned my leg over his shoulder. By lifting and spreading my legs, Peeta slightly exposed my most delicate parts. I close my eyes, and my senses are heightened to the different sensations Peeta is causing beneath my skirt. My hips instinctively inch towards his face, and I move the top of my skirt aside so that I will have a good view of the show.

Peeta glances up at me and begins to place little kisses along my thigh working himself up to where my thighs connect with my underwear line. "Katniss, these panties are positively ruined. Too bad we can't take them off, isn't it?" What a fucking tease! I'm getting ready to offer a smart ass remark when Peeta drags his tongue over my underwear, lining up _exactly_ with my folds. My knee buckles and one of my hands finds itself weaving through his blonde curls pulling his head closer to me. Peeta continues to run his tongue over me while one of his hands snakes behind me and cups my ass. The other hand starts raking up and down my skin. My leg is already quivering from the ministrations Peeta's tongue is working between my legs, and I know that I'll never make it to ten minutes.

It's becoming increasingly more difficult not to pull Peeta's face completely into me when I realize that along with his mouth he is using his finger to torture me through my underwear. Each tickle of his tongue is accompanied by a rougher swirl from his fingertip. _This is too much._ Nameless sensations are coursing through my body causing me to tremble. I'm not going to be able to stand much longer. "Fuck, Peeta, I give up. If I lay down, does that mean you stop?"

Instead of answering me with his words, Peeta lets his actions do the talking. He pushes me back to a sitting position on the bed. My bottom is right at the edge and he kneels in front of me, spreads my legs, and throws a leg on either side of his head resting on his shoulders. _He is really going to go through with this, isn't he?_ Peeta returns to licking and rubbing me through my panties. My whimpers and moans are out of control now. I breathe Peeta's name and he increases the intensity. I am simultaneously in heaven and in hell. My body is on fire, and each tickle of Peeta's tongue makes the fire burn a little hotter. There is no relief in sight.

"More." I hear myself beg. He is slowly driving me to the point of no return, but what he is doing, it's not enough. _I need more_. Peeta said no sex and I get that, but he has to give me more. Aside from grinding into his face until I break his nose, I have no clue how to get what I so desperately need. "Please, Peeta. More!" I don't even recognize my voice. It's desperate. It's wanton. It's out of control.

Peeta immediately stops working the front of my panties with his tongue and peers at me from between my thighs. "Spread yourself for me," he demands. The realization of what Peeta wants me to do dawns, and I untangle one hand from his hair and move it to spread myself, the part of me that Peeta has been paying so close attention to, further apart with my fingers. "Do it underneath your panties," another order, "but keep your fingers to yourself." His eyes look slightly wild and his face and nose are red from rubbing against the fabric of my underwear. "They are just there to help me help you." He is in control and he wants me to know it. I should be intimidated by this, but I'm not because when Peeta looks at me, despite the feral nature of what he has been doing to me for the last ten minutes, I feel so unexplainably connected to him I have to close my eyes to distance myself from the feeling.

The reappearance of Peeta's mouth against me leaves me little time to ponder what this means. By opening myself up more to him I have helped to reveal the tiny piece of flesh that will cause me to spontaneously combust. He knows what has been uncovered and gently pulls it, panties and all, between his teeth and begins to assault the over sensitized nerve endings with the tip of his tongue. This is the 'more' that I so frantically sought but minutes ago. A sweet tension begins to build in my abdomen and works through every inch of my body. I am winding tightly into myself like a coil, and the feeling is overwhelming and _almost_ painful as I climb towards release. The fire rages inside and the tension increases, my limbs begin to tense and curl into a ball. I see black as my shoulders hunch over and my eyes close. My hands grasp at Peeta's hair, dragging him closer to me as my thighs clench around him and when I finally reach what I am climbing towards the fire ignites an explosion and I see colors behind my eyelids.

When I finally come to my senses Peeta is sitting on the floor, and I quickly scramble off the bed to join him. "That was…" my words trail off as I realize that poor Peeta is sporting a massive erection in his pants. My hands immediately reach for it and his hands hesitantly still mine. He needs the 'more' I was just begging for. "Tell me what I can do for you, without taking off your pants." It's my turn to get demanding, but unlike him I pay heed to the rules he very literally skirted.

Peeta's eyes are skeptical, whether it's because he doesn't trust me to follow the rules or that he doesn't think I can help him come without removing his pants I'll never know, but he answers me. "Kiss me and ride me like you were on the couch."

Sounds easy enough, but when I go to straddle him I realize that not only is Peeta's face red, I'm a little chaffed too. He recognizes this and tries to tell me it's not a big deal. I silence him with my lips on his and my hand rubbing him through his heavenly jeans. _He is so rigid, this won't take long_. Little fires erupt on my skin again. I still want him, despite what he just gave me, but now is not about me. It's about Peeta. I know exactly when he comes because he stops kissing me and holds his forehead tightly against mine. I can't help but wonder if he feels the fire I feel. _Is our being together different for him too? Is this even special to him, or, is it all one of his games?_ We sit there for a moment before Peeta disappears to the bathroom. I take the time to clean myself up and change my panties.

"How is that not breaking the rules?" I pose the question as he renters the room looking beautifully disheveled.

His face is still red and his eyes are twinkling more than I've ever seen. "No clothes were removed and I merely kissed you."

_Right._ "Hmm. Okay smart ass, I thought we weren't doing anything underneath clothing. I hate to get technical on you, but you were working your mouth magic _under_ my skirt."

Peeta joins me on the bed and lays his head in my lap before he responds with a playful waggle of his eyebrows. "More like up your skirt, not under it. The rules were nothing goes under clothing." He looks pretty pleased with himself, but in all actuality he had said that we had to stay out from underneath clothing. I burned that rule into my mind and would not be forgetting it anytime soon.

It's unlike me to let something like this go because I like being right, _obviously_, but in this moment I decide to let it go. _Why would I jeopardize the progress that Peeta and I are making? _Besides, nothing sounds better to me in this moment then a little post orgasmic cuddle session. This, the desire to cuddle and keep Peeta around after his gift to me, terrifies me but it feels so good I'll just save those thoughts for another time.

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**A/N: My beta is fantastic, wonderful, and absolutely amazing! That precious soul made sure that this was beta'd for you guys before he became unavailable. However, I changed/added/revised the majority of the story so PLEASE attribute any errors to me. I'm posting it with every intention of changing any glaring errors if they are pointed out in a constructive manner. If the criticism isn't constructive I may pull a Katniss and finish my meal sans utensils and wipe my face on the tablecloth. **

**As always, thank you for the continued support and reviews! Every review, PM, or tumblr message warms my heart and keeps me going on the days I feel like abandoning creating fan fiction and returning to lurker status. You guys are my rock…seriously, you rock! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything THG related.**

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Appetizing scents are wafting into my room. Seriously, it smells like the candle cart at the mall set up shop right outside my room. I'm pretty sure that either I'm having a very vivid dream about breakfast pastry, or someone is cooking cinnamon rolls. _Hmmm_. Possibly cinnamon toast or, I don't know something with a lot of cinnamon in the kitchen. I roll over and check for light through the curtains. There are just a few slivers of grey filtering through, which means it can't be more than 6:45 am outside. _Why am I awake?_ Better question, why is someone assaulting my nose with the delectable smells of cinnamon and sugar this early in the morning? I have a sneaking suspicion who the culprit is, and it certainly isn't my roommate. Peeta has been on shift for the past few nights, so I haven't seen much of him. Last night he text me something about missing me and that he would be over for breakfast. I didn't give it much consideration; I guess I just thought he meant that we would have breakfast before I had to work at ten.

My hands find the covers and somehow I manage throwing them back. As I toss my legs over the edge of the bed, I carefully bear weight on my healing toes. They swell over night and the first bit of weight that I put on them in the morning is a bitch. I make my way to the bathroom and take care of my morning needs, making sure to brush my teeth but forgo putting on pants. Peeta is standing in front of the stove minding something in a frying pan. Hemingway and Harper wait patiently at his feet for any scraps. Well, Harper waits patiently; Hemingway may have an aneurysm before any breakfast hits his lips from panting and wiggling so much.

I take a moment to appreciate the view. Not only is Peeta preparing me a meal, he is doing it in a tight white undershirt and scrub pants that fall loosely on his narrow hips. He has a beautiful build. It seems like Peeta is all shoulders and the broad expanse of his upper back strains against the shirt. _Maybe I should have put on pants_. I step up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, nuzzle my head into his back and breathe deeply. I find myself doing these things with Peeta, these intimate gestures that hint at something deeper and have nothing to do with sex. I attribute it to the always present, heady sexual tension that is constant and heavy like a dense fog whenever we are together. It'll go away whenever Peeta and I finally indulge in the deed, more like whenever Peeta quits withholding the cock.

"You smell…" My nose detects an unusual smell, but I can't quite place it. It isn't bad; in fact it is reminiscent of something being really over the top clean. "...exceptionally sterile. Like antiseptic or something." Peeta sits the spatula down and snakes an arm around my shoulders pulling me to his chest in a half armed hug.

He puts his lips to the crown of my head and squeezes me again before returning to the eggs he is scrambling. "It's the hypoallergenic detergent I wash my work clothes in and the hand soap at the hospital. Considering I have to scrub up with the stuff to my damn elbows about four hundred times a night, the smell sticks around because it's pretty heavy duty antibacterial stuff."

That explains that, now onto bigger things. "Not that I'm complaining, free breakfast and all, but how did you, and the dog, get in here?"

Peeta shrugs his shoulders as he extends a fork to my lips and feeds me a bite of eggs. "I knocked and you didn't answer so I figured you had forgotten about agreeing to have breakfast with me. Right as I started dialing your phone I noticed the plastic rock and lo' and behold I found a key."

This should piss me off, and I should tell him it isn't okay to just let himself in when Johanna and I are sleeping. Peeta's harmless, I know that, but I really shouldn't let this slide because technically this is kind of a huge line to cross. Gale is the only man who has ever had free reign of my living space, and Gale's different because he is practically my brother. But, where does that leave Peeta? We are trying this dating thing out, which has its obvious perks. I mean, hello, the face job through my underwear experience was pretty much the most exciting thing that has happened to me all year. This here, the being in my living space at ungodly hours and completely dressed, this is a down side, _right?_ Damnit, I don't know, things are so confusing these days.

"Katniss." Peeta is trying to get my attention, I must have spaced longer than I realized. It is ridiculously early in the morning for me to be focusing on anything other than sleeping. "Hey, whatcha' thinking about? You've got that look you get when you are over thinking things."

I smile at him and try to deflect from discussing the thoughts wreaking havoc on the tiny slice of happiness I was feeling this morning. "It's nothing." I notice the source of the heavenly cinnamon smell that roused me from my slumber, a pan of plump rolls slathered thick with a creamy white frosting. "Oh, shit, Peeta are those homemade?"

It doesn't take much to make Peeta blush, but it still has the same effect on me as the first time I saw it in this same kitchen. He is so fucking adorable that sometimes it is hard to look at him. "Yeah, I mixed them up yesterday before I went to work and then let them rise all night so they would be ready to bake this morning." Peeta says this shyly like being able to bake is something to be embarrassed about. The rosiness of his cheeks really accentuates the blue of his eyes, which in turn accentuates the dampness in my underwear. _I should have worn pants_. He ducks his head and shifts his weight back from foot to foot like he's waiting on something. I stick my finger in the frosting and lick it off, "Fuck. Me. Cream cheese frosting? What are you doing to me, Mellark?" My eyes roll back in my head, the frosting is delectable.

Peeta suddenly closes the distance between us. "Do that again." It's not a demand, but it certainly isn't a question. Peeta's shyness has definitely disappeared, yet his cheeks are still flaming pink. _Oh_. I scoop some frosting onto my finger and then do my best intentional 'sexily licking deliciousness off of my finger' routine that I can muster. Peeta wraps one of his hands around my hip and tugs me to him before leaning in and lowering his mouth to mine. Within seconds, the playful mood has been replaced with white hot electricity pulsating between his body and mine. His kiss is steady and unyielding as his lips work over mine, teasing and nipping, but never fully tasting my mouth. My knees tremble in anticipation.

When Peeta finally slides his tongue into my mouth a moan passes through my lips, and I press myself desperately against him. Peeta grasps either side of my hips and lifts me from the ground then sets me onto the counter. I immediately wrap my legs around him and pull him to me. The goddamned counter is high enough that when Peeta's body collides with mine I'm rubbing against his belly button and not the magnificence that is straining against his scrub pants. His hand threads into the hair at the base of my neck and Peeta pulls causing my neck to tilt backwards, his hot mouth sears a trail from my ear to the top my collarbone.

"Kinky shit. But, when I get my morning coffee I'd like to keep it down." Of course Johanna would choose this instant to get out of bed. She stands there for a moment looking incredibly pleased with herself, and Peeta lifts his mouth from my neck and turns his head, not his body, towards her. "Do me a favor and start the coffee pot, I'll give you a few minutes to settle down, but I want one of whatever smells so good." Johanna turns and exits the kitchen as quietly as she came in.

A hearty chuckle escapes Peeta's lips, "It was probably for the best she walked in when she did, things were getting a little heated." He reaches over and flips the coffee pot on before helping me from the counter top. When my feet hit the ground, Peeta pulls my oversized sleep shirt back over my thighs. "You should probably wear pants around me, I'm only human. Remember the rules, Katniss."

I grab a plate and start piling breakfast on it. "Maybe I was hoping for a repeat of the mouth magic performance you gave me the other night." Peeta is standing in front of the skillet on the stove top so I push into him with my ass to get him to move, grazing his erection on purpose.

He grabs my hips, pulling me right back into him and his lips whisper in my ear. "You liked that, didn't you?" If my panties weren't ruined before, then they are now, playful Peeta is the sexiest thing I have ever encountered. My back arches against his chest opening up the expanse of my neck. Peeta lowers his mouth to it again, instead of kissing he starts murmuring into my skin about how _hot_ that night had been and how _hard_ it had been to follow the rules.

This seems like the perfect opportunity to test the rules a little more. I jut my ass out into him and momentarily lose myself in the bliss of feeling of him, erect, behind me before I admit that I spent last night touching myself thinking about him. "I can't keep my hands off of myself when I remember your face between my legs." Peeta groans, forcing a stream of heated air across my neck, and then grinds his hips into my back.

"Are you insinuating what I think you are?" I can barely make out Peeta's words because his mouth is pressed tightly to my skin, but the way he is rolling his hips into my backside lets me know that I am achieving the desired effect.

"If you are asking if I made myself come apart thinking about you last night, then yes, that is exactly what I am insinuating."

Peeta makes a noise that resembles a growl and his fingers start lightly stroking the skin of my side through my shirt, "I want details." He softly caresses my neck with his words, "Did you use your battery operated friend from the closet? Or, did you use your fingers?" One hand continues its ministrations on my side, while the other raises my hand to his lips and he places kisses on my fingers. It dawns on me that the careful strokes Peeta is painting on my side mirror the ones his fingers would use to fondle me elsewhere.

Before I answer, I contemplate which option Peeta would prefer because that is the one I want to give him. I need him to feel just as sexually frustrated as I do. Then, maybe he would give up the game and just be with me, _finally_. I never get to answer him because Johanna reappears, pretends not to notice the grinding embrace we are sharing, and starts pouring coffee and filling her plate. _The_ _moment has passed._ Breakfast passes awkwardly with small talk and flushed cheeks.

* * *

Johanna is waiting for me on the couch when I get home from work. She has her feet kicked up on the coffee table where there is a pizza box sitting next to favorite beer. I'm instantly suspicious of Johanna's intentions. She has provided two of the things that I love most in this world, either she has done something wrong, or she is buttering me up to do something that I won't want to do.

"What's up?" I try and keep suspicion from sliding into my voice.

I thought I did a good job of it until Johanna drops her feet off of the coffee table and sits up. "Everdeen, we need to have a little chat." _Oh shit_. She must be pissed about Peeta letting himself in this morning. This makes me get defensive because in all the years we have lived together I have never once complained about the men she has shuffled in and out of her bedroom door.

"Okay." My reply is cool, but my hands clench at my side. I remind myself to breathe and just listen to what she has to say.

"I have some real concerns about Peeta." _What? Peeta? What could she possibly think was wrong with Peeta? _This must be a joke. "I'm just going to jump into it; you don't know much about him and you are getting pretty wrapped up in him." Her face is deadpan and her voice lacks the sardonic quality that I have come to recognize as her mischievous tone. She pats the seat beside her, motioning for me to sit down. I'm so shocked I do as she requests, I can't even muster any antagonism or biting remarks. I have never had a discussion like this with Johanna, ever. Gale, yes, with his protective ways and no nonsense attitude, but not my rock Johanna who lets me live a life free from judgment.

"He seems nice enough, but doesn't it seem odd to you that in the weeks that you've known him he hasn't once invited you to his house?" I stop and think about it. It is a little peculiar that I don't know where Peeta lives. He has never invited me over there, or even said anything about roommates or anything. "What about his family? Do you know anything about him aside from his profession and that he causes you to drench your panties?"

My stomach has dropped and blood is rushing to my face. I am infuriated at what she is insinuating about Peeta. "What the fuck do you know about anything, Jo! Peeta isn't a serial killer or something. He's a nurse, he has a brother that watches Hemingway, he…" _Is that really all I know about Peeta?_ It seems like I know so much more about him when in reality Johanna has a valid point. I have let myself get so swept away in lust and this romantic notion of dating that Peeta presented, that I have completely ignored the fact that I don't know the first thing about him. Peeta has completely misrepresented himself to me. We aren't actually dating, we can't be if I don't even know his birthday. What the fuck _are_ we doing? He seems to spend a lot of time chastising me for wanting to move too fast, all the while trying to learn more about me. Peeta knows so much about my life, he has met Prim and Gale, hell, he even knows about what happened to my Daddy.

"Katniss? I'm not trying to upset you here, I'm just telling you that maybe you need to slow down when it comes to Peeta and see who he really is before you invest so much of your heart in him." Johanna's eyes are soft and the tone she is using with me is the same one that Prim uses with my Mom when she slips into one of her depressive episodes.

She's completely right. Since Peeta bullied his way into my life at the bar that night I have been different. I've been opening up to him and acting completely out of the norm. _Am I investing my heart in him?_ I'd like to think not, but why else would I change my standard operating procedure when it comes to men. "I'm not mad at you, Jo. Fuck. I'm mad at me. This has never happened before. I guess I got caught up in it all."

"It's alright to get caught up in it Katniss, you deserve that. I'm just saying slow down and truly feel Peeta out before you jump into anything." I'm emotionally stunted when it comes to things like this. The only relationship I've ever really had was when I was nineteen, and it lasted about seven months before I tired of it. The only reason it took that long was because I lost my virginity to the guy and spent the next few months getting the hang of sex. "It's weird you haven't seen where he lives, start there and go forward from that point."

* * *

_2009: 19 years & 21 years old_

Katniss has made up her mind and she is unwavering in her difficult decision. _This is the right thing to do_, she reassures herself as she mentally prepares to break her boyfriend's heart. Things had been going so well between them. She should have seen this coming, of course she didn't because she isn't good at things like this, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't have. It wasn't fair to him to continue this she rationalized, frankly, it wasn't fair for her to deal with all of his emotional needs either. It needs to happen, but she wishes it didn't have to. Katniss thought that they had connected really well, and was enjoying the sexual exploration and fun they were having. She could really use some guidance here, but Gale was apparently too busy to pick up his phone and help her with this sticky situation.

Katniss steels herself for his reaction, _it's been a good run_, she tells him and her unintentional callousness causes tears to streak his face. She tries a different tact, _it's because I don't love you back, and it makes me feel weird when you say it_, which causes him to stop crying and just stare at her. Gale really let her down on this one. She was screwing this up royally and could have really used his assistance. Katniss tries several other methods of pacifying the crying man. _Thanks for the sex, that was my favorite part of dating you_, and he looks at her in disbelief. She even tries telling him that they can be friends like they always do in the movies, and he regards her as if she just punched a baby. Eventually, he gets up to leave sparing her any further indignities, and when the now ex boyfriend asks her if she has always been this heartless, she can only reply _yes_.

The phone has been ringing on and off for two hours now. There is no need to check the caller identification box because Gale knows exactly who it is. Katniss. Just when he was making some leeway in separating himself from her she starts calling him incessantly. At first, he entertained a glimmer of hope that maybe she had realized what he had so long ago, that they were perfect for one another. Then he listened to her despondent messages about breaking up with her boyfriend and realized it was the same old clueless Catnip. It was pretty obvious that his affections were unrequited and it may seem cruel to close her out, but isn't it cruel to subject yourself to the presence of the girl who has unintentionally shattered your heart?

Madge bounces in the front door, just as his voicemail picks up for the eighth time. "You should really answer that Gale. She's hurting and needs a friend."

The girl is a sweetheart and has kind of turned into his Katniss replacement, without the angst and accompanying heartache. Madge is blonde, and bubbly and genuinely concerned with those around her, essentially Katniss' antithesis. They had been pretty much inseparable since the party at his buddy Thresh's house a few months ago. He was recovering from the debacle of kissing Katniss and had hit on her to soothe his hurt ego. She saw right through it and promised him that they would go on that date as soon as he was finally over whomever it was that had broken his heart. From then on out it was purely platonic, an instant friendship to soothe the wake that his oldest friendship had incurred. "She isn't actually hurting, I know her. She just wants to bitch. Katniss is a big girl, she will be just fine."

Gale was right, Katniss was just fine and got through it all without him.

* * *

I ignored Peeta's texts last night and his call this morning when he got off shift at the hospital. At this point, I don't know what to do. His actions in no way reconcile with the words he has been spewing at me since we first met. It sucks too. _God, does it ever suck._ How was I so stupid to let myself get caught up in a man?

"Hello? Katniss?" He answers on the third ring, just as I am mentally chiding myself that this is not a good idea. His voice sounds tired; I've probably woken him from resting after his all night shift. At this point I don't care, I just want answers.

"Yeah." My voice is brash, reflecting my mood. "Listen, I want to catch a movie tonight. I'll be over to pick you up at 8."

"Uh, sure." Peeta clears his throat, "why don't I just come get you since your place is closer to the movie theater. What do you want to see?" His voice is cheery, he sounds excited at the prospect of a movie.

"No. I'll come get you, just text me your address when we hang up." I don't leave him any time to argue.

"Um, okay?" His words come out sounding forced with a noticeable question at the end. "Just honk, don't worry about coming up to the door. I'll be looking for you so you don't have to wait."

I answer his earlier question, "I thought we would catch whatever the 8:15 show is."

"Sounds good. I've missed you and I'm looking forward to see you. Are you sure I can't come get you?"

"Yup. Bye." I hang up before Peeta can protest anymore. It was obvious how much he didn't want me at his house. I'm considering not even bothering canceling and standing Peeta up instead. This situation just got really fucked up, or, maybe it was the entire time, and I was too clouded by lust and whatever else to notice it. Everything about this state of affairs is just odd. _So very odd._ He must be hiding something. It better be a weird hoarding habit and not dead bodies because I'll never recover from that. _Ewww._ Okay, scratch that, I wouldn't recover from hoarding either. Shit, I hope I haven't been bamboozled and Peeta has a wife or something like that. What a cruel joke that would be, to be a mistress that wasn't even getting any action.

I show up early. That's the point. I want to throw Peeta off guard and earn an invitation in since he seemed dead set on my honking the horn and him coming out. As I approach the front door I appraise the house and front yard. Nothing out of sorts here, in fact, it's a pretty nice home with a really lovely wraparound porch and well kept yard. My heart is pounding when I ring the doorbell. Thoughts of serial killers, stacks of newspapers, doting house wives, and rotted food flash through my mind. _What have I gotten myself into?_

The door opens and Peeta is standing there in a towel with wet hair. "Um, hey, you're early." _Thanks Captain Obvious, I can tell time_. It's apparent he is surprised to see me and a mix of shock and something else, possibly dread, crosses his face.

The beating of my heart picks up at the sight of Peeta wearing the least amount of clothes I have ever seen him in. I curse my body and its fucking reaction to _goddamned Peeta Mellark_. I take deep breaths and try to steady myself. "Well, are you going to just stand there or let me in?" The smile on my face feels so forced that I'm sure Peeta would pick up on it if he weren't staring at my feet.

"Sure." Peeta's response is drawn out and completely unconvincing that he wants me to be here, in his personal space. Nevertheless, he moves to the side and allows me entrance. What he doesn't do is invite me any further in. "I'll be ready real quick." Hemingway bounds around the corner and I kneel to scratch his stomach. Peeta seems apprehensive about leaving me by myself in his entry way and glances at me and his dog several times before disappearing deeper into the house.

As soon as Peeta is out of eye sight I stand up and really take in my surroundings. The place seems extremely clean for a twenty something bachelor. I don't smell anything out of the ordinary so I can check filthy hoarder of my list. There is an interesting metal tracking contraption on the ceiling that I think I've seen before, but I can't quite place exactly what it is. I follow the tracking into what appears to be the living room because there is a television mounted to the wall and overstuffed couches.

Now that I've seen Peeta's place I should make my way back to the entry way, but I don't. I walk deeper into the living room so I can scope out the pictures hanging on the wall, but I never reach them because I notice a door to the left of the entryway. It's open, but the light is off. What caught my eye were the drawings taped to the door, they are a child's art work complete with stick figure families and oddly colored animals. Despite the fact the light is off there is enough light coming through the window that I can make out a full size bed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bedding. It even has those bars on the side to keep a little one from falling out of bed. This is clearly a child's room, from the looks of it a little boy, but hey I love the heroes in the half shell just as much as any boy so you never know.

Before I have time to process what I'm seeing Peeta's voice interrupts my snooping, "Yeah, so we should probably talk about that."

_Yeah, you think?_

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the continued support and wonderful reviews! I love hearing from you! A big thanks to my wonderful beta, you are amazing! **

***If this story is removed, you can find me on tumblr and AO3 with the same username, kismet4891.***


	10. Chapter 10

My first reaction startles me because it has nothing to do with running away; instead my feelings are puzzlingly hurt. There is a pain in my chest cavity that feels like it is crushing my lungs, making it difficult to breathe, and my stomach has dropped to my knees. I'm upset that Peeta has kept this huge secret from me, and I feel like he has intentionally betrayed the blind trust that I have put in him. Logically, I understand him not wanting me to meet his child because it isn't cool to parade strangers in and out of a child's life. What I don't understand is why Peeta felt the need to hide it from me, especially since I had poured my heart out to him. To me it means that every single word that came out of his mouth must have been a lie. Every phone call, late night discussion, the nurse routine when I was hurt, his asinine rules, and even breakfast from yesterday morning was just a sick power play to get me to go along with the game and undermine me. He had to have identified what type of person I am and has probably been gleaning enjoyment out of making me quiver and bend to his conventions.

"Katniss turn around and look at me." Peeta's voice is strong, but there is a hint of desperation in his tone that alludes to a genuine desire to explain himself. "I have a pretty good idea what you're thinking and it isn't that, but you are going to have to look at me if you want me to explain." _Fool me once Mellark, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me._ I'm not falling for it, but I will give him this, he is one smooth mother fucker because for an instant I almost caved. I don't want to look at him because his eyes are always my undoing.

My body is stuck. I don't know what to do, and I can't seem to do anything. I want to scream. I want to rage. I want to bottle the hurt I'm feeling and force it down his pretty little mouth so that he will know just an iota of the pain I feel. Instead I just stand there staring into the room. What comes out shocks me, "Can I just have a minute here?" My voice comes out hoarse like I've been woken from a long nap and I feel Peeta's hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away before I do something stupid like lean into his touch. It's like he knows the way my body craves his and he is exploiting this. Peeta may know my body responds to him, but he can't know the effect he has on my emotions; I refuse to let him have that too.

I'm still standing in front of the room. I don't know where to go. I should just leave, but I'm processing everything that has happened. I turn and Peeta is still standing behind me, his face is etched with concern and it looks like he is just as shocked by my response as I am. "Say something, anything, just something." He sounds breathless even though I'm the one having trouble pulling air into my lungs.

As I prepare to turn around, I try and wipe my face clear of any emotion. "I'm not good at saying something." It's the truth, I'm not. Especially in situations like this where I have been completely blindsided. The color has blanched from Peeta's face, and even his eyes seem somehow lighter. He raises his arms like he wants me to walk into them. Of course, I don't and he stands there raising his arms, dropping them a little, and then raising them again like he doesn't know what to do with them.

"It's not what you think, Katniss." He sounds defeated. _Then explain it to me_. I want to demand that he tells me what it is, but instead he just stands there looking confused as to how it possibly could have come to this in a matter of minutes. "It's…" He starts, but then just stops. He opens his mouth to try again, but nothing comes out. He is looking like a fish out of water constantly opening and closing his mouth with no sounds. He seems panicked and nervous. There are a thousand things I want to say to him. But, there are no words to express the duplicity and horror I am suffering with. For once in my life the fire has left me and it leaves me feeling cold, empty, and lost. I can't even muster a proper 'fuck you' before I turn and head for the door.

Peeta's hand grasps mine and pulls me back towards him. "Wait, please Katniss. I just…Will I see you again?" The words are soft on his lips. For a moment I am almost convinced that this truly is a misunderstanding that we can move past. However, his deceit isn't something I can forget. Heaviness settles in my chest, there is a pulsing in my stomach and the blood has left my hands to rush to my head, leaving them a frigid temperature. I know that when I walk out that door it is the last time that I will see Peeta on purpose. As much as it hurts to look at him, I can't bear the idea of not being around him and my hand lifts to his cheek to drink in one last embrace. Peeta leans into it and the grasp he has on my wrist loosens as he relaxes. His relief is evident on his face, as if he is convinced that I don't see right through this fucking evil game he has been playing with me.

Then, just for me because I need it, and I am desperate to have one last piece of whatever this was to take with me, I wrap my hand around his neck and guide his mouth to mine. I roughly press my lips to his and savor the jolt of electricity that always accompanies kissing Peeta. When the pain of the situation, this final good bye, kicks me straight in the gut I gasp into his mouth. Peeta takes this gasp as something other than what it is; he parts his lips and pulls me back in. I give in and kiss him, really kiss him before stilling his lips by pulling his forehead hard against mine. We stand there; eyes closed breathing in one another. A thousand hateful words gather at the precipice of my lips, but not one takes the plunge. I pull away and Peeta's eyes meet mine and I think he knows this is it. I forfeit, he wins. He looks dejected and confused, but I recognize now that he is pretty fantastic actor with this nice guy bit being his expertise.

"I wish you would have fucked me instead of my heart."

He blinks rapidly and his mouth opens, but before I can hear the bullshit he spews, before he can pull me back into him, before my heart can crumble right at his feet, I push through the front door and bustle to my car hoping to reach it before the tears spill. I'm not crying because of Peeta, I'm crying because I knew better than to get caught up in this. _I'm better than this. Tougher than this_. What a fool I was to break my rules for his. _Never again_. I can hear him behind me, rushing after me. "Katniss, please wait!" _Not a chance in hell, _I move faster to my car. "Please Katniss." I throw my car in reverse and see Peeta standing at the end of the drive looking perplexed, and miserable. When I reach the stop sign at the end of the block I put the car in park and pound my fists against the steering wheel.

* * *

The next day I wake up with a throbbing headache, the residual effect of pounding a beer and two left over codeine pills from my foot injury. I couldn't sleep when I got home and Johanna wasn't there to bitch with me, so I did what I had to do to get some sleep. Not the best coping mechanism, I know, but I've never felt like this before. The result today is that I feel slightly hung over, and the blood to my brain seems to be pumping slower than usual.

I had work at ten, but luckily my job is pretty mindless. As a graduate research assistant during the summer session I just hang out in the mineral lab helping students who had a hard time passing the intro class, but need a certain score to stay in the program. No one stops in and I relish this time by myself to go over all the details of the colossal mistake that trusting Peeta was. By lunch my headache is gone, but if I continue this pathetic rumination I won't be able to pull myself out of bed the next day because I'll be bogged down in self loathing. I get the clearance from my advising professor to skip out on the rest of the day, and I head back to my apartment to load up Harper and head to see the only person who understands me better than I understand myself. Gale.

By the time I pull up to the automotive shop I've convinced myself that this is a bad idea. I've functioned just fine the last two years without Gale by my side, and with him getting married soon it's not like he will have any more time for me in the future than he does now. The thing is that I don't have anyone else I feel like I can talk to about this. For the first time in a very long time I wish my Daddy were here. He always knew what to say to make all my troubles seem insignificant. I hold onto this idea and get myself and Harper out of the car to see if Gale has any time for his oldest friend.

The bells at the top of the door jingle as I let myself in. Gale is stooping directly behind the counter fishing for something in the mini refrigerator he keeps underneath the counter. He looks up and sees that it is me, and a smile passes his lips. His smile feels like home and the comfort that I have neglected to acknowledge I've needed since I left this place to go to college. I feel myself breaking and the façade I have put on since I drove from Peeta's house yesterday falls apart. Before I can even form one word, Gale is on my side of the counter, and I melt into his open arms. Then the tears begin to fall. They are dignified at least and roll down my cheek in slow fat streaks, not sobbing but still soaking his shirt front.

"Come on, let's go to the back." Gale speaks to me in hushed tones as he flips the 'be right back' sign in the store front before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and ushering me towards his office.

Before we can reach the office, a high, breathy, female voice calls out from exactly where we are headed. "Sweetie, whose dog is this?" My body stiffens, but if Gale notices he doesn't show it and keeps walking right through the door. I didn't even think about the fiancé being here, but that is who it has to be. "He sure is a sweet old guy." As we enter the office, I see a blonde woman kneeling down and scratching Harper's chest with a set of perfectly manicured fingernails, painted the exact shade of her lavender sweater.

"His name is Harper, and he belongs to Catnip here." She stands and smiles sweetly at me, it's not completely saccharine, but I am left wondering how genuine it was, as she extends her hand. Gale smiles at the scene unfolding before him, "Madge Undersee, meet my twin Katniss Everdeen," he nods at each of us as he completes the introductions, "Katniss, my fiancé Madge."

Madge doesn't skip a beat as she shakes my hand, "Katniss, it's so nice to finally meet you. Gale always has the funniest stories to tell me about the trouble you guys got yourselves into." She has to notice my tear stained face, but I give her credit because she just continues smiling that sweet smile. "Well, looks like you two have some catching up to do. I'll just head up front and work on invoices for a bit." _I can't do this_. Not here, I don't belong here with him anymore, there can't possibly be room for the both of us in Gale's life.

"No, Madge. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm just on my way out." I choke out as I push the tears back as far as I can. "It was nice to meet you; Prim is looking forward to the wedding."

Gale slides his arm back around me, "Catnip?" He questions, and I can't look him in the eye because I know that I'll lose it. I shouldn't have come here. I turn and walk out of the office. As I reach the exit, I feel a hand lightly touch my back.

"Katniss, it's okay, really you aren't interrupting anything. It's obvious you need someone to talk to and who better than your best friend?" Madge's words hit me because just a few weeks ago I stood here as Gale told me that _she_ was his best friend now. Despite telling myself I don't need anyone else, and that I like my life the way it is, I feel so alone. "He does that too, you know."

Madge's words have me confused, does she know Peeta? Of course she doesn't know Peeta, but for some reason I just irrationally hoped that is who she was talking about. "Does what?"

"That right there." She points at my hands, and I realize that my thumb is rubbing worry circles around the scar that Gale and I share. Time has faded the scar until it is a thin, white line, barely noticeable to anyone else, yet there still is a physical reminder of the bond we once shared. "For a long time I was so jealous of you." Madge has caught my attention with this line, and I back away from the door. "I shouldn't have been. I should have trusted him, and I should have insisted on meeting you a long time ago. I'm sorry about that." Gale is now standing behind Madge rubbing her back. "He holds you in such high regard, Katniss, which alone should have told me what a great person you are."

These are words I was not prepared for. This, I cannot take; it really is all too much. Bring on the ugly sobs because here they come. My chest starts heaving and the tears start flowing just as the incoherent babbling starts.

* * *

_2005: 15 years & 17 years old_

Under the veil of the night sky, with caps pulled tight over their heads and sunglasses adorning their faces two teens, a boy and a girl, snuck into the high school agriculture barn. The girls braid slipped from underneath the cover of her wool hat as she picked the padlock to the door leading to where the FFA students tended their livestock. The boy, whose broad shoulders resembled a man's, hurried to shuffle several ewes into a rusted out horse trailer. The moon was bright and full, providing just enough illumination that they were able to safely load the animals without the aid of flash lights, but the night was dark enough to provide cover.

Their destination, the baseball field house, was nearby, and it took less than ten minutes to pick the lock and unload the sheep into the locker room. The girl suddenly flipped on the lights and the boy yelled at her to turn it off.

"I have to make sure there isn't anything that can hurt them." She glared at him as if asking how he could possibly be so dense.

He narrowed his eyes and matched the girls glare as closely as her nearest relative could. "I thought that was the point. They shit all over everything and hopefully tear up some stuff, right?"

Her hands flew to her hips, "No, not the baseball players, the sheep. I don't want them to eat something they shouldn't, or you know bump into something and hurt themselves."

"They'll be fine." He couldn't believe his ears; she was worried about the big dumb animals instead of being concerned about getting out of there before they were caught.

She dropped her hands from her hips and pleaded, "Drop the asshole act and just help me, okay?" As soon as the safety proofing was complete they locked the door behind them and sped off into the night.

"Attention students," the intercom system crackled overhead as the principals voice boomed through the speakers, "it has come to my attention that last night somebody, or a group of somebody's, intentionally left sheep in the baseball locker room."

Katniss snickered to herself, of course someone left sheep in there intentionally, _was the principal a dumb ass?_ The sheep weren't capable of transporting themselves to the locker room and staying overnight.

"This is a very serious incident that has resulted in damage to the player's personal effects and incurred an expensive cleaning bill. If you have any information regarding how, and why, these sheep were re-homed to the locker room, it would be in your best interest to come forward now. This is the only announcement." As the last notes of the principal's voice echoed around the classroom Katniss broke into a fit of giggles and quickly tried to reign herself in. Luckily, she wasn't the only one who found this early morning announcement so funny, but she was the only one who had information about who could have possibly defaced the locker room.

Her laughter was not missed by one person, the boy with the floppy hair who had been the recipient of her first kiss. The class quickly moved onto the complicated calculus assignment from the evening before, but not before he noted the giant grin on her face. When the bell rang to transition to the next class, he quickly followed her to her locker.

Katniss had felt his eyes on her the entire time, and she was relieved to realize that it didn't elicit the same tingly feeling it had a month ago when she could feel him staring at her. No, this time it drummed up dread because of what she feared he knew. "We deserve it, I get that, but you need to be more careful. Especially, since my glove and locker seemed to be targeted by the filthy animals you left in there." Katniss held her breath, maybe spreading applesauce all over his stuff hadn't been the smartest idea, still she couldn't deny the small feeling of satisfaction she felt knowing that his things were ruined.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. In fact, I didn't realize we were talking." Katniss retorted coolly despite the rapid blushing in her cheeks.

The boy wedged himself between her and the locker door, "I'm not going to say anything. What I did was shitty. I deserve it, we deserved it."

Gale rounded the corner to see the floppy haired boy cornering Katniss at his locker. He charged at the boy and harshly grabbed the back of his jacket, twirled him around, and then slammed him into the lockers. The gasps of astonishment of those in the hallway could be heard echoing in the halls.

"You little fuck. What do you think you're doing talking to her?" Gale spit the venomous words at the boy who flinched in the hands of the older teen. "You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?"

The boy looked down and stammered, however, words failed to form and he was left sputtering and shaking in response to Gale's threat.

"Gale stop!" Katniss latched onto her protector's arm, "You are drawing unnecessary attention let it go." She was right, there was a crowd quickly forming.

Gale drew a few shaky breaths, he was unwilling to let this boy, the boy that made _his _Katniss cry go. The thing with the ewes was nothing compared to the punishment he wanted to deliver to the boy's orthodontia studded mouth. Her small hand on his upper arm calmed him and helped him find a rational place long enough to let the boy go. "You've been warned asshole, stay away." The boy scampered away as Gale hung his head and let it drop into the lockers in front of him with a thud.

"Hawthorne, he isn't going to tell but I can't guarantee that everyone didn't just figure out what happened."

With his forehead still resting on the lockers he shifted his head slightly so that his eyes met Katniss' and a smirk spread across his face. "That felt good letting that little prick know he can't get away with shit like that. Even if we get caught, it was worth it though, wasn't it?" Gale's eyes danced as he waited for her response.

Her lips pulled up in a massive smile as she hugged her bag to her chest and sighed, "Completely."

* * *

Two days. That's how long I let myself wallow in self pity in the confines of my childhood home. Talking with Gale had really helped sort things out, well scratch that, Gale had wanted to hop in the car and challenge Peeta to a fist fight.

"I swear I will pummel that guy." Gale fumed. While this wasn't something I actually wanted to have happen, the fact that my long time, self proclaimed protector was still willing to do the job made me smile.

Madge placed a calming hand on Gale's shoulder, "Now sweetheart, what would that accomplish?"

I wish I could hate her, despise her for taking my best friend and having perfectly coifed blonde hair. I can't though. It's blatantly obvious that she is completely head over heels in love with my best friend, and him with her. Watching them together is what caused me to realize how much of myself I had already given to Peeta.

"Katniss, what did Peeta say when you asked him about his child?" Madge asked me sweetly.

"Well, he started to say something, but I, um…" Okay, so maybe I should have given Peeta a chance to explain, especially if 'Team Katniss' is going to be asking questions about his response.

"You didn't give him the opportunity to explain?" Madge finished my thought for me.

Okay, I may have blown things a little out of proportion leaving Peeta like that without giving him a chance to explain. It makes sense that he wouldn't want me to meet his child. In fact, I really respect that decision because he is a good dad for not wanting to traipse women in and out of his child's life. Attachments are formed, routines disturbed and ultimately if the relationship doesn't work out then it isn't fair for the child. What kills me is that he didn't trust me with the information. It really isn't that big of a deal, a child is a lot better than the other things I was imagining, but he should have at least warned me.

"So Katniss, what exactly is it you are upset with Peeta about?" Madge's words were like a balm, gliding soothingly from her lips and appealing to my barely existent logical side.

Gale jumped immediately to my defense, "She's upset because that little shit was playing her!"

"Gale, you don't have to protect her here, let her answer for herself."

It started to feel like I was a child, stuck between two parents who had my best interest in mind, but had two completely different ideas of how to approach the situation. Gale knew me and he was right, that was exactly why I was pissed, "Well, I'm upset for exactly the reasons Gale said, he kept secrets from me and lied to me."

"Ok, well then, why were you upset that he lied to you?" Madge is quickly getting on my last nerve_, is she daft_, who wouldn't be upset that they were lied to and deceived. "Could you be upset because you had hoped he felt as strongly about you as you do about him?" How dare she tell me how much I did or didn't feel for Peeta. _Was it that obvious?_

"Look, I get it that it may seem that I was invested in him because I was. I truly understand him not wanting to interrupt his kid's life, but he could have at least trusted me enough to tell me about the fact that he had a child." I'm not proud of it, but I yelled at Madge, who was just trying to help.

This was a turning point of sorts and lead to a far longer discussion than I had planned on ever having with the woman who was stealing my best friend. Who, coincidentally, turned out to be a lot harder to dislike than I had originally hoped. Really I know that my blow up didn't have anything to do with Peeta, and is more about me being forced to acknowledge that I wanted to be worthy of Peeta's trust. I wanted to deserve his sharing this secret with me. I care about him, _well cared about him_ more than I ever had someone like that before.

Peeta has made it strikingly obvious that he does not return these feelings. I haven't heard from him. No calls or even texts since I left his house that day. It's better this way, I really believe that, because the path we were headed wasn't a good one and even though I wasn't all in, I was as close as I had ever let myself to being all in.

What really perplexes me is that I still don't understand the game that Peeta had going. If he had no intention of being serious with me then why go to all the trouble of not sleeping with me. Maybe it was to protect me; he did say that if you care for someone having sex will only strengthen that. But that raises another haunting question, why perpetuate this act of being interested in me and go as far as saying he wanted to have something deeper if he didn't really mean it? I'm sick and tired of constantly mulling over these things. It will be good to be back in my own bed, but I fear that these past few weeks have left an impression on me that I won't soon shake.

It's late when I pull up to the apartment, yet there is light pouring from the front window. Johanna must be up. I've been ignoring her phone calls because it's hard for me to admit that she was right, something _was_ going on with Peeta. I wouldn't put it past her to say I told you so, but delaying the inevitable isn't going to make it hurt less.

I open the front door and prepare myself to go full out 'band aid method' on her before she can get all over me. Her normal laze about spot, the couch, is empty so I make my way back to my room. I'm unpacking my bag on the bed when a manila envelope plops down beside me. "I started this, and now I'm going to finish it." Johanna is standing in the doorway where she apparently threw the envelope at me. She seems unimpressed to see me home, but that is her constant look, unimpressed, unenthused and over all apathetic. I look at her and she motions towards the envelope. "Pick it up, open it, read it…I'm just ready to bow out of this."

"You can't just throw folders at me, then say cryptic shit, and assume I'm a fucking mind reader or something." I pull my toothbrush out and point it at her. "What's this about?"

Johanna steps into the room, sits on the floor, and starts picking at her fingernails. "It's not my story to tell, okay? Just read the note."

My heart skips a beat. The envelope must be from Peeta. _He didn't completely forget about me_, he came to see me, the realization quickly loses its thrill when it dawns on me that whatever he had to say he couldn't say it in person so he chose to write a note. _This can't be good_. "I don't want to read it. You were right; I was invested in it more than he was. He has a fucking kid, Jo, and he didn't even bother to tell me." I throw the bag on the floor and start stripping clothes from my body, I just want to change into pajamas and sink into bed. "I get it, you told me so. Now let me wallow in peace." There are some sweats tossed over my vanity chair so I grab them and hastily dress for bed. If Johanna isn't out of here by the time I'm in bed I am siccing Harper on her.

Johanna is mumbling underneath her breath, "Just read the goddamn note. Peeta doesn't have a child. He's been here about twice a day since you left wanting to talk to you. He isn't happy with you either, storming out like that, but he is persistent. I told him to write a letter and I would deliver it."

I tear into the package. There is a photograph and a handwritten letter. Peeta's handwriting is in sloppy script that slopes across the page.

_You told me once that you lost your hero, your father. This hit me hard because I almost lost my hero too. I wanted to tell you about it that night. I didn't because it seemed insensitive to tell you that I got to keep my hero when yours was stolen from you. My hero is still with me, but he is different, forever changed, his life drastically altered by tragic occurrences. He doesn't regret this, but I do. _

_My hero is the reason I am a nurse, he is the reason I am the person I am today, and he is the reason you walked out on me the other night. I understand you're pissed that I kept a secret, but it isn't like you exactly made it easy for me to open up to you when you were constantly reminding me how you don't date, or love, or feel things for men aside from arousal. I get it if you don't want to date anymore, but you owe it to me to at least let me explain the reason. The photo is of my brother and me with our middle brother, who is my hero and best friend._

_Peeta_

The photo suddenly feels heavy in my hand. I hadn't even looked at it in my desire to get to the contents of the letter. There are two men in the photo with Peeta; they are all of similar coloring, and share the same infectious smile and impossibly blue eyes. Peeta and the brother with the darkest shade of blonde hair are flanking the third man. His grin is bright, from ear to ear, and his floppy waves of hair are falling in his face. Yet, there is something strikingly different about the man in the middle, something that irrevocably differentiates him from the two other Mellarks. He is handsome, his smile is divine, his hair is blonde, and he is in a wheelchair.

* * *

**A/N: I was a bit shocked at the response from the last chapter. Thanks guys! As always, thank you to my fantastic beta fish, Wildharp. You are wonderful and I appreciate the time and effort you spend working with me on these chapters! Seriously, guys, he had some time invested in this chapter that goes beyond basic beta duty.**

***Find me on AO3 and tumblr with the same login name. I do post sneak peaks and other fan fiction related things***


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: There are child abuse triggers present in the following chapter, please be advised and read with caution. If you prefer, you can skip to the very end where there are author's notes discussing said triggers.**

* * *

..._1993: 4 years & 6 years old_

The small boy clamored into the linen closet, quickly burrowing under towels and blankets as a means of escaping the screaming downstairs. He twisted and manipulated his body until he was as deep into the closet as he could possibly get. The only visible parts of the boy were his oversized blue eyes, a lightly freckled nose, and a tuft of curly white blonde hair. If he thought that he could figure out a way to breathe underneath the heavy fabrics his face would also be covered. The minute he heard Mother open the door to the clothes dryers and start cursing his worst fears were confirmed.

He had accidentally left his brand new box of oil pastels in his jacket pocket. When he realized they were missing he had run to the laundry room to find them, but soon realized his efforts were in vain. Mother had already started a load of laundry, and his jacket was in the mix. He didn't want to keep secrets from Mother, but he knew that the minute she saw the unopened box of pastels she would assume that his dad had bought them for him. This would make her very angry since she thought spending money on art supplies was a waste because coloring was what _fruitcakes did_. He didn't want to make Mother mad at his dad because then her yelling would keep him up late.

He wishes he would have refused the gift, or kept the pastels at the bakery with his crayon box. Bringing them home was a really stupid mistake; he had tucked the box into the interior pocket of his jacket when one of the bakery regulars, a silly old woman with an affinity for hats and brightly colored clothing, had presented him with them this morning. He had smiled, thanked her profusely, and promised to create her something wonderful for her refrigerator door. He had never in his four years life, ever held something so magnificent in his hands. _These are real art supplies_ the old lady assured him, for _real, big boy artists_ and his chest puffed with pride at the thought that one of his dad's customers thought so highly of his drawings to bring such a wonderful gift to him.

The little boy loved to draw and spent every minute of free time he had filling the pages of a giant ledger book back from before his dad used computers to track business stuff. He couldn't wait to go to school next year like his brothers because they were always bringing home art work that they had created using all sorts of materials he had never gotten to try before. Mother was never impressed with the art work, lamenting that it was a _waste of school funds to do something so frivolous_ and pondering _what on earth did boys need with arts and craft_, but the precocious blonde haired boy couldn't wait to create his own masterpieces without worry that Mother would take them away.

A loud stomping noise startled the boy and his tiny body began to tremble, he knew that Mother was on the stairs now because he could hear her clomping up them. The linen closet was at the end of a long hallway, but she would eventually figure out that he wasn't in his room and find him. _I shouldn't be scared of her_ he reasoned with himself, she had never actually hit him like she did his older brothers. However, Mother did yell real loud and she was surely going to be angry that he had been given such a wonderful gift and kept it a secret. _Maybe she isn't mad_ he tried to convince himself, they are a lot like the crayons she begrudgingly allowed him use so maybe she didn't even realize he had been given a present. He debated coming out from underneath the blankets and approaching Mother before she found him. The hiding would definitely make her angrier than the present.

"Peeta Mellark," the harsh way in which Mother screeched his name terrified him, he had never heard her so angry _at him_ before, "you insolent little brat where are you hiding?"

Tears started to fill his large blue eyes. Words _like_ that were ones that she used with his brothers before she hit them. The wide eyed child had never been hit before, he thought it was because he was too little, and maybe because he hadn't done anything bad enough to deserve being hit. That's one part of being a _big boy_ he wasn't looking forward too. Surely hiding a present from Mother wasn't bad enough to get hit over, _was it_?

Suddenly the cabinet door opened and Mother's cold eyes peered at him, "Ruined, you worthless little brat, absolutely ruined! Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Mother's face was contorted in rage as she spat the accusation out at her terrified child; he cowered in the back of the closet making himself as small as possible, which was easy given that he barely tipped the scale at forty pounds. "Hiding from me, are you boy? We'll see about that!" Water glistened in the child's eyes as Mother reached in and grabbed him by the downy soft curls adorning the top of this head, then pulled him out by tugging painfully on his tender scalp. Fat tears poured from his eyes and wet warmth trickled down his legs, soiling his pants and the blankets as she drug him out of the closet roughly depositing him on the floor in front of the closet door.

Mother let out a snort of disgust, "Revolting child you are, pissing all over my good linens. You ruin the clothes in the wash with your idiocy, the washing machine is covered in some sort of oily mess, and now I have to wash all the linens, but have no way to because I don't know what the fuck is all over my machine." The boy was instantly ashamed, he was a _big boy_ he knew better than to pee in his pants, but he didn't even realize it had happened. He wanted to say that he was sorry, he wanted to apologize _he didn't mean to hide the present,_ and he certainly didn't mean to ruin anything.

The sting of Mother's open palm striking his face knocked the air from his lungs causing his head to crash painfully into the cabinet door and the young child to bite through his lip. The pain shot through his diminutive body and radiated in hot waves from his head, he was sobbing freely now, sitting on the floor covered in his own urine and snot. The boy's thin arms rose up over his head to protect himself from another blow, but it never came. Instead, he heard Mother grunt loudly and shriek in pain, his eyes shot open just in time to see his middle brother wrapped around Mother's leg biting her calf and effectively diverting the attention from his beloved baby brother. _Oh no_, he thought, _Bubby hasn't done anything wrong, I'm the bad boy_. He watched in horror as Mother peeled his brother off of her and then directed her anger and rage into punishing the slightly older boy.

That night the tiny child lay underneath his Thomas the Train comforter and sobbed until there were no tears left. His pale face carried an angry red mark, and his lip had opened up again when his dad had helped him brush his teeth. _Never again_, his dad had promised as he gingerly tended to the child's battered face. But, promises didn't matter much in his house and he was pretty sure he would never feel safe again. It wasn't only his face he was worried about, but also Bubby's. His older brother was barely two years older than him and had taken the brunt of Mother's rage before his dad had shown up. The eldest brother had called their father when Mother had first taken after the baby of the family, but he wasn't there soon enough to prevent the damage that was done to the youngest brothers.

The little blonde child was also mourning the loss of the pastels. He now knew that when they were washed they ruined the clothing and had really made a mess out of the washing machine. That's why Mother had been so angry. He feared he would never again be worthy of such a beautiful, special gift. The door creaked and he held his breath, afraid that Mother had come to finish the punishment. Instead, his brother crawled into bed with him and pulled him into arms that were not much bigger than his own. "I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner." The boy's body relaxed and he immediately felt at ease, his Bubby was _so very brave_ to stand up to Mother that way. Even now he was here making him feel better even though he had taken a lot harder hits than him, the child only hoped to one day be as brave as Bubby. "I promise she will never hurt you again, ever."

"I wuv you, Bubby." The smaller boy's tinkling voice rang crisply through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Peets." And, with those words the two children snuggled deeper into the comforter and fell into the deepest sleep possible given their less than desirable circumstance.

* * *

The early morning sky and subsequent weather patterns reflect my mood, gray, damp, and overall gloomy. Peeta's letter and the photograph of him with his brothers effectively prevented me from getting any sleep. My heart told me to pick up the phone and call him immediately, not necessarily to forgive him, but to search for answers to the barrage of questions forming in my mind.

No matter what Peeta has to tell me, there is no excusing the fact that he had so effortlessly hidden something as important as a disabled sibling from me. Then there is the lingering question as to why he would feel the need to hide his brother. If he is embarrassed of his brother, then this is not a man I want to waste any time on. However, he did say his brother was his hero, someone who is your hero is not also someone you are self-conscious of. I doubt there is anything sinister going on, but at the same time I can't deny that there is something deeper at play than a brother in a wheelchair.

When I finally gathered the nerve to call Peeta he didn't pick up, but did text me a few hours later to let me know that he was in the middle of his shift. I agreed to meet him at his house at seven in the morning. My stomach is so unsettled at thoughts of having this discussion with Peeta that I opt out of grabbing breakfast and instead fill a thermos with ginger tea to help calm my nerves.

By the time I reach Peeta's drive I have to park and lay my head on the steering wheel, my stomach is churning, rolling, and boiling with apprehension, and it is causing me to feel nauseated and shaky. I'm anxious that I'll actually forgive him. I want to let the whole thing slide, but that doesn't mean I should. Trusting him, and the way he makes me feel, got me into the present mess. I'm resolved to hear things out, get some answers to my questions, and then part ways with him. _It's really for the best_. We have nothing in common and I'm definitely better alone. I climb out of the car with my fiercest scowl painted on my face and my resolution set, but it quickly falters when Peeta opens the door and jokes, "I was wondering if you were going to come in or just take a nap out there." He too has an expression plastered on his face; a rather large, not completely genuine smile that I probably would not have seen through had his voice not faltered during his greeting.

Hearing his voice and seeing him casually standing there in the door frame causes a tremor to develop in my hands. _Fuck me, remind me why this was a good idea again_? Peeta's golden hair is tousled and curling over his incredible blue eyes, his chest and feet are bare, his black scrub bottoms, which are the only thing he is wearing, fall loose on his hips and the band of his boxers are visible. To top the whole thing off, he is holding his preposterous dog in his arms like a baby. I take deep breaths and remind myself that no matter how absurdly attractive and endearing the man in front of me is, being with him is not a good idea. As I approach he sits Hemingway down and the dog darts out to greet me, I stoop to give him a good rub down and use the time as an excuse to gather myself. Peeta's stunningly handsome, I've always known this, but I've never been so sure about pushing him out of my life as I am right now. Physiological response aside, this is not a good idea, it never was, I was just too blinded by lust and perceived emotion to see it.

The closer I get to Peeta I realize that there are dark circles underneath his eyes and he looks exhausted. It makes sense; he did just get off a twelve hour, overnight shift at the hospital. I step up to him, still not having spoken a word and stand in front of him waiting to be invited deeper into the house. My nose detects something sweet baking in the oven and the telltale sterile scent of antibacterial soap, but my stomach is too unsteady to welcome the olfactory assault. Peeta looks me directly in the eyes and smiles lightly, more genuine than before and I feel my lips betray me and turn up while my eyes demurely break contact with his. He reaches out a large hand and lightly places it on my back guiding me in the front door.

"It's good to see you Katniss." There is nothing disingenuous about Peeta's tone, and while his eyes belie his exhaustion, he seems legitimately happy to see me. "No point pretending why you are here," those fantastic blue eyes dart down to my hands and I fear for a moment he is going to take one in his, but he doesn't, instead he starts walking into the house, "let's start in my Bubby's bedroom."

The proximity to Peeta and the emotional weight of the moment is dizzying, and I find myself wishing he would have held my hand, if only to help me remain steady on my feet. I catch myself staring at Peeta's bare back as he walks in front of me, the muscles are flexing with each step he takes and the cinched waist of the scrub pants slide up and down his hips. He's too distracting topless, I want to forgive him and then make out until I can't breathe. "Can you put a shirt on first?" Peeta stops walking and turns to face me with raised eyebrows, "Sure. Let me grab one."

I stand at the door to the bedroom that started this whole damn mess. "So, this isn't a child's room. It's your brothers?" I'm staring at the art on the door that screams the world view of a child, drawn with unsteady, miniature fingers.

"Yes, but he doesn't live here all the time." Peeta rejoins me at the bedroom door wearing a t shirt. "He lives in a residential group home during the week and then my dad, older brother, and I take turns having him stay on the weekends." The cadence in his voice lets me know that this is something that Peeta is proud of, the fact that he helps take care of his brother. "I'd have him here all the time if I could, but Bubs' needs are higher than I can provide for and still work full time."

Things between us are rapidly heading into dangerous territory, and while I want to know more about his brother, I can't deny how daunting this moment is. I can just feel how hard it is for Peeta to share this information with me. "He was the victim of non accidental brain trauma and damage to his spinal cord at the age of fourteen." Peeta pauses and appears to try to compose himself, but he isn't very successful. Everything about him screams tension, instead of the animated story telling he usually does with his hands they are clenched tightly at his side. "The spinal cord damage left him in a wheelchair, however the result of the brain trauma was much more widespread, and his cognitive development was stunted along with some serious neurobehavioral consequences to motor function. Subsequently he suffers from other medical issues stemming from the trauma, such as seizures and hypothalamic dysfunction." I understand very little of what Peeta just told me aside from the fact that his brother had a head injury that left him in a wheelchair and he has seizures. Peeta can't be more than twenty five, so to know that he has helped take care of his brother since who knows exactly when makes my heart squeeze. I dismiss the warm feeling just as a I remember that he has been hiding said brother from me.

Peeta steps into the room and as I follow him things I did not notice the other night come into view, "I can see how you thought this may have been a child's room. He is in a way stuck at the age he was when he was hurt, but in other ways he has regressed due to further damage from the seizures and other causes." Ninja Turtle bedding, a few scattered posters of professional athletes and Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, along with action figures cause the room to be reminiscent of a pubescent boy's room.

Amongst the beloved bric a brac are amazing pieces of artwork, many so realistic that they appear to be photographs at first glance. I step in front of a particularly stunning piece, a close up of Hemingway complete with shiny black nose, coarse textured hair, and bright pink tongue, "Wow. Even with the motor damage he endured, he has an amazing talent." Up close the painting is filled with a thousand minute details, it's so uncanny I fight the urge to reach out and stroke the painting.

Peeta clears his throat, "All the art work is mine, Bubby is my biggest fan and his favorites end up on his wall, either here or in one of his other rooms." I turn to look at him, he looks more unsure of himself than before, but him admitting that he can create art like this further reminds me of why I am here. "Even the art on the door is mine," Peeta laughs a little at this, "even though I was four when I gave them to him, he insists they are my best work." This is the first I've heard of any talent for painting, _goddamn it when will the secrets end_. I can guarantee you if I could paint like Peeta it would be the first thing I made sure people knew about me.

"Secret brother, ability to paint, controlling our relationship and making me follow _your_ rules," I exaggeratedly tick off each point I make on the tips of my fingers, "is anything I know about you the truth? Oh, don't answer that because I just remembered that I don't actually know anything about you."

"Whose fault is that Katniss? Seriously, I may not have told you about my brother, but if you had asked about what my hobbies were I would have told you about the art." I hit a nerve, and that's fine, him being pissed at me will make this easier, but how dare Peeta blame me. "What about the fact you haven't even tried to _really_ know me?"

He is still shouting, but I don't care I push up against him, "That's unfair…" I start but am quickly cut off by Peeta who has grabbed my hand to move it out of his face, but hasn't let go.

"No, you don't get to interrupt me; you are going to hear what I have to say for once. _Fuck_, you know what's unfair? What happened to my brother! I wasn't keeping it a secret, but it's not something that you just toss out in casual conversation." Peeta has my full attention now. He drops my hand and starts walking circles where he stands. "This is a joke. You've already made up your mind, and it doesn't matter what I have to say." He tosses both hands in the air and stalks off towards the bedroom door, "There are muffins in the kitchen, you should grab one before you go because I made them for you." Peeta doesn't even turn around to face me as he dismisses me from his home and presumably his life.

I stand there stunned. This is what I wanted, _wasn't it_, to be free of Peeta and his games. This doesn't feel good though, I feel like shit. I want to know more about Peeta, but I don't know how to tell him I'm sorry. Is whatever this is, what's going on between the two of us, worth putting me out there? _I'm already in so deep_. I walk out to the living room and see Peeta's form slumped over with his head in his hands, defeated. Hemingway is pacing and whining nervously in front of him._ I can't leave with him so upset._

My feet propel me in his direction even though I have no idea what to say because a simple, "I'm sorry" doesn't seem sufficient enough. It's all I have though, so I go for it, "Peeta," he doesn't look at me but I know he heard me from the way his body tenses at my voice, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, even what happened to your brother, whatever it was. I'm sorry I am the way I am." Tiny tremors move up and down Peeta's back, barely visible through his shirt. Peeta is either extremely angry or crying, I don't think I can stomach either, but it doesn't stop me from coming around to the front of the couch. It's obvious he is crying now. Not sobbing, just slivers of tears dropping silently from his face and onto the carpet in front of him.

I take a seat beside him on the couch, I feel like I should hold him, or hug him, or tell him everything is going to be okay, but as someone who has known true pain I know that these platitudes are awkward and often come off insincere. A deep sound comes from Peeta's throat as he clears it, "It's my fault that my brother is the way he is. It should be me, not him." I lean in and rest my head against the back of Peeta's hunched shoulder and just listen. "Mother used to hit us boys, and I suspect my dad too. I'm not talking about a smack on the hand or spanking on the bottom, I mean she really hit us."

Shock, disgust, extreme anger, descend upon me like a heavy cloud and my jaw clenches. This is not what I was expecting. "Peeta, there is nothing that a child or adult does, ever that makes them deserve to be treated that way."

"I know that now." His voice is barely a whisper, head still buried in his hands. "My older brother kept himself busy with all sorts of stuff so he would be out of the house leaving me and Bubby with her. Anytime I was the focus of Mother's anger Bubby would find a way to deflect it to him. He's my hero, he sustained so much because of me, but if I realized what it would eventually cost him I would have learned to handle it." I realize that Peeta is getting ready to tell me that his mom is the reason his brother is in a wheelchair. I've heard about things like this happening on television and the news, but never known anyone it has happened too. Water begins slipping from my eyes, it is unexpected and I worry that Peeta may take offense to my unintended response to what he is confiding in me.

"When I was twelve, Mother got very upset with me for chalking the cement on the backyard porch, to this day I'm not sure why that set her off but it did, and she came after me with the garden hose. I took a few licks before Bubby heard the commotion and came to help. He threw himself in front of me and when the end of when the hose struck the side of his head it caused him to lose his balance and fall off of the porch." Peeta is still sitting with his head in his hands, but my arms have wrapped all the way around him, holding on tightly. "It wasn't a long fall, only a few feet, but his head struck the bottom step _just right_. There was so much blood and I thought he was dead, but he wasn't. We almost lost him so many times, yet he is still here. I don't deserve a brother like him."

What words are there to tell him, how can I possibly comfort him, or let him know how truly sorry I am that he and his brother were subjected to such cruelty. "Peeta, I should have asked about your family sooner."

"I probably wouldn't have told you." He quietly admits and finally raises his head to look at me with red rimmed eyes. "At least not this soon into something, it's not fair for me to introduce new people into Bubby's life if I'm not sure they are going to stay. He forms attachments easily, our eldest brother had a short lived marriage and Bubs got so attached to his wife that when they divorced he took it hard." I don't blame Peeta one bit, in fact I feel a bit foolish for pushing him away when all he was trying to do was protect his brother.

"It makes sense, I completely agree that you were doing what was best for your brother. I just wish you would have trusted me to understand, I don't have to meet your brother. He sounds amazing, but I would have understood if you had told me the reasons why."

"Katniss, I think we both underestimated one another. I didn't even know where I stood with you until the other night, and then you were walking away from me."

I consider Peeta's words. I've done my best to keep him at arm's length, never asking anything more about him, always deferring to our lack of a physical relationship. He's done a bit of the arm's length thing himself, counting me out before he ever truly gave me a chance. "How many do-overs does a girl get before she misses out completely?"

This elicits a smile from Peeta and my heart immediately clenches at the sight. He is such a gentle, good person, and that smile that I found cocky or irritating early on is now more precious to me than words can express. "I guess as many as it takes." I raise my hand and lightly stroke his cheek. "When you pulled away from our kiss the other night, it hit me hard, I could just tell that you were done. It saddened me because you had really wormed your way into my heart, but figured it was time I started letting go of you." Peeta sits there with his face cradled in my hand, he finds my other hand and wraps it up in his own and kisses my knuckles softly. "Your fire, that fight you rage so hard against the world with, it's exhausting. I was tired and worn out from the effort of trying to reach a part of you I was starting to realize that would never be mine."

"Peeta, listen…" I try to interrupt him, but his eyes dart to my face suddenly, and I know that despite my wishes I need to let him continue. He needs to get this out and I have to hear it, even if it will break my heart all over again.

"But, then, as you left, you said what you said 'I wish you would have fucked me instead of my heart,' I knew there was a chance. There was hope." He twines one hand with mine and the other loops around my neck, "Yes. What you said was crass and intended to hurt, but instead the simple mention of your heart let me know that you had let me in, if only a just a little, for me to affect your heart."

All the breath that I didn't realize I was holding expels from my lungs and I suddenly feel lighter. _Is he telling me that we are going to be okay?_ I open my mouth as Peeta whispers the words that cause my undoing, "That's why I'm not letting this go just yet, not now, and maybe not ever."

* * *

**A/N: I realize that this chapter was very heavy and I know that the events of Peeta's childhood and his brother's injury were possibly very difficult for many of you to read. They were difficult for me to write and based off of several different cases I have encountered in my professional career. If you have any questions or would like resources about non accidental brain trauma, child abuse, or any of the medical jargon discussed above please PM me or find me on tumblr and shoot me a ask. **

**A special thanks to Wildharp for beta'ing and keeping me sane. BFFF. **


	12. Chapter 12

When I wake I am momentarily disoriented, the view from my stomach is of crisp gray sheets that feel cool and foreign against my skin. I stretch my arms out in front of me, tucking them underneath the pillow then arching my neck and back up off the bed. As my fingertips come into contact with the headboard I flip to my side and am greeted by the sight of Peeta's sleeping form. He is on his stomach with lips slightly parted exhaling evenly, he looks peaceful and I don't want to interrupt him, he was up the entire night before working, and then I kept him from getting to bed until much later.

After the emotionally gut wrenching conversation about his beloved brother, and fucking terrible excuse for a mother, he invited me to stay and nap with him. Tucked in the comfort of his bed, with his head on my stomach and my hand playing with his hair, Peeta filled me in on the entire messed up situation. Now that I know the entirety of the story I can see why he chose to keep the information to himself, it's not like he had many positive experiences to base my possible reaction from, not to mention I had spent a lot of time pushing him away. His mom beat on her children and his father was too busy running the family business to truly understand what was going on at home. Peeta believes that his dad thought his mom released the brunt of her anger onto him and didn't realize just how awful it was for the boys too. Mrs. Mellark had only spent a few years in prison before she was paroled for good behavior, _more like overcrowding_, and even though her boys and ex husband knew she was out, there hadn't been any attempt at contact made by either side. Peeta should be broken goods, _but he isn't_. Knowing what I'm getting myself into seems a bit harrowing, but the alternative is not having Peeta around and I know that I don't want that.

When my feet hit the floor, Hemingway is whining and pawing at them letting me know he wants to go out, but my needs trump his. The bathroom is easy to find because it is attached to Peeta's bedroom, I feel a bit sneaky digging through drawers looking for a toothbrush but it pays off when I find one of the cheap travel toothbrushes dentists give in goody bags. _Jackpot_. It's still in the package so I consider it fair game and set about freshening up a bit and plaiting my tangled hair. Hemingway watches me with his head cocked, panting, waiting for his turn to be let out.

When I'm done in the bathroom I pause to watch Peeta sleep. He is so peaceful, unguarded, and relaxed when he is resting. I reach out and lightly stroke the curve of his cheek and then lean in and place a kiss to his temple. I meander into the living room and open the door to the backyard, letting Hemingway out before making my way to the kitchen. I search the refrigerator and pantry for something to eat and find nothing readymade. There is a bag of chips though, so I grab them and start munching while I dial my favorite pizza place. The girl on the line asks for the address, _which I don't know_, so I step outside to check the numbers on the mailbox wearing Peeta's oversized t-shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts. I must look like quite the sight to his neighbors, the talk of the quiet residential area will be the half dressed girl wandering the Mellark kid's yard. Using my chin, I rest the cell phone to my ear and crunch potato crisps all the way to the mailbox to get the address.

Order complete, I hang up the phone and make my way back inside. I'm surprised to see Peeta sitting on the couch, _he was just in bed sound asleep_. His head snaps around as the door slams behind me. "I hope I didn't wake you, I was hungry so I ordered a pizza." Peeta stands abruptly and makes his way over, dropping to his knees in front of me he wraps his arms around my waist, "Geez, Peeta, you must really love pizza." _What's this about?_ I tease him, working hard to keep an unalarmed tone.

"I woke up and you were gone and I thought that everything was too much for you, you know?"

I slide down and wrap my arms around him. "I'm sorry." I say simply because I am, I didn't want to startle him. I tuck my head underneath his chin and stroke his back, there are words building on my tongue, and they feel colossal and alien, yet still need to be expressed. "I'm not going anywhere, Peeta. I'm right here." My intention is deeper, and I think he realizes this because he squeezes me tightly and places a kiss to the crown of my head.

We sit there holding one another for awhile and I start to get uncomfortable with how comfortable all of this is rapidly becoming. I sabotage the moment, but not in a horrendous way, just a way that reminds Peeta who he is dealing with. "Now that we are being open and honest, let me tell you these rules suck, like really fucking blow."

Peeta laughs into my hair, releases his grip on me and pulls me so I am standing. "They do kind of suck, don't they?" His eyes are bright blue, peering straight through me, "That night we kind of fooled around it was so hard for me not to rip those panties off of you and, uh…well," he clears his throat and his cheeks flush, "…taste you, but it's important to me that we wait and do this right." Peeta's words are blazing a trail of heat all the way to my toes, but also causing a quickening in my stomach_. Damn butterflies_.

It's a relief to hear him say it, I was starting to think he didn't really want me, but I could never admit that to him. _Well, not yet at least_. We are treading that fine line between having fun and having a _feelings_ conversation, I need to push it towards fun.

"I'm starting to think you are hiding something from me Mellark. I bet you're hung like toddler. If I were you, I'd keep that a secret as long as I could too." My mouth contorts into a wicked grin as I struggle to keep my face straight, Peeta's jaw gapes open and it's good to know that I can still shock him. "I promise no judgment!"

I put my hands up in mock defense in front of me and Peeta grabs them pulling me to him, he leans down until he is right in front of my face, "Well, you'll find out soon enough if you learn to play nice." He nips at my bottom lip, taking it between his teeth and pulling out slightly before releasing it.

"If I admit that I kind of like it when you're vulgar, does that mean you'll use it against me?" I lean up, expecting him to nibble on my lip again when Peeta backs away from me, this time it's his turn to give me a wicked grin. "Come on, I want to show you the rest of the house." Our little exchange has left me wet; forget the rest of his house I want to memorize what the ceiling fan looks like.

* * *

..._2006: 16 years & 18 years old_

Her hands rocked back and forth, swirling the tepid amber contents of the red plastic cup, swishing it close to the edge, but never allowing it to spill over. Katniss blew a steady stream of air from her lips causing her bangs to flutter lightly on her forehead. The music blaring from the speakers was entirely too loud and abrasive for her taste, and the fact that she was sandwiched between two couples making out was steadily wearing out the remainder of her already taxed patience. She promised Gale they could stay two hours, but that was before she knew that he was going to ditch her the minute they got there. A promise was a promise though, and for the time being she measured the painstakingly slow progression of time through the increasingly drunken displays of other party goers.

His hands slipped clumsily under the back of her shirt, the sweat of his palms causing them to awkwardly drag over her smooth skin as they trekked upwards. Gale wasn't even sure how he came to find himself tangled up with the lovely brunette who tasted of peppermint schnapps and poor judgment, but he definitely wasn't complaining that it had happened. She had pushed him into a room, straddled him and set about sloppily kissing him and tantalizing him by moving and shifting against his lap, dragging her teeth along the shadow of facial hair on his neck. He was drunk, and she felt good against his fingertips and even better working the inseam of her jeans against the turgid ridge of his cock. She grabbed his hands and pushed them up underneath her bra as Gale silently gave thanks to the gods of inebriation because his intoxicated state was the only thing preventing him from blowing his load in his pants. Her breasts were heavy in his hands and when he rubbed his big, calloused thumbs across her nipples she panted _Gale_ in his ear. Nothing in the world mattered more in this moment than seeing how far he could ride this unexpected wave of good fortune, not even his solemn best friend waiting for him on a couch in the living room.

Katniss didn't care if the obligatory two hours had passed or not, the skunky smell of weed from the bowl being passed around in the kitchen propelled her to her feet to seek out Gale. It wasn't that she was opposed to enjoying the occasional hit, but she needed to stay straight for Prim, and to play DD. She searched the back yard, the kitchen, and even pushed her way into the bathroom before she resolved to check the bedrooms. When Katniss opened the bedroom door she should have been surprised, she wasn't, but she should have been. Instead, she was slightly mesmerized at the sight of the brunette gyrating and moving against her best friend with tenacity and purpose. She stood, glued to her spot in the doorway, the girl's shirt and bra were bunched up around her neck so that Katniss had a view of the girl's bared breasts as Gale's large hands kneaded and squeezed. It appalled her how fascinating the scene was and she was slightly skeeved out when she realized how hard it was for her to tear her eyes away. Mostly, she was pissed off to find out that while she was putting up with drunken assholes her friend was getting lucky down the hall.

"Damn you, Gale. Seriously, wrap this shit up and let's go." Katniss twirled her hand in front of her face sarcastically before throwing them on her hips in exasperation. "Sugar tits, put the goods away. I'm ready to go home." The girl looked at Katniss horrified before standing and scampering past her.

"What the fuck, Catnip!" Gale's words were slurred, he attempted to stand before gravity, and the residual effects of vodka shooters, pulled him back down to the couch. "She's real pretty."

Katniss snorted and laughed at her best friend who was currently having trouble standing without swaying, "She was, and real slutty too Hawthorne. Tell me, what were you planning on doing? You can't even stand still, you should be thanking me for preventing you from contracting a vicious case of crabs. _Let's go_."

"No crabs Catnip, she gave me boobies."

Katniss stifled a giggle before she threaded her arm around Gale's waist, grabbed his arm, tossed it around her shoulder, and encouraged him to lean heavily into her. "That she did Hawthorne, gave you some nice wood too, I see. Congrats."

Gale stole a glance at the crotch of his shorts, if his cheeks had not already been flushed from the alcohol and physical exertion of making out they would have flamed red, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about your boner."

"Shut up," Gale straightened his shorts with his free hand, "okay, can you still see it?" He dropped his head to Katniss' ear and whispered the next part like they were sharing a secret of utmost importance. "I don't want anyone else to know!"

Katniss lead the drunken teen through the door and down the hall, "I hate to break it to you, not only can I still see your chubby but now that we are in the light I can see the hickies on your jaw."

"Mom's gonna kill me." Gale's words came out lazily, strung together and difficult to make out, "But, it was so worth it." He hiccupped and smiled down at Katniss as she opened the door to his truck and helped him into the passenger side.

"What's the big deal anyway? With the tits, the kissing, and the sucking on your neck like that?" She was curious. Katniss had stared in morbid fascination when she walked in on Gale and the girl, but she just didn't get what was fun about rubbing up against each other and all the spit that was exchanged. "What you were doing with her boobs looked like it hurt."

"Guarantee it didn't, she loved it, all the ladies love it." Gale gave Katniss a crooked grin as she climbed into the driver's seat. "Over," he loudly shouted with a sudden burst of energy, "just let me 'member it in peace. She liked it; I liked it, end of story."

She sat there with her hands on the steering wheel, she had what she thought was a great idea, and with Gale drunk and loopy this was the perfect time to ask. "I want to see a dick, but I don't want to rub against anyone, and I certainly don't want someone manhandling my chest."

Gale looked at Katniss, too soused to see where this conversation was headed and chuckled, "Where do ya think ya gonna find a guy that jus' lets you peek his junk without touching it?"She stared back at Gale, her intention clear, it took him longer to pick up on given his state, but eventually he did, "Wait! I don't think so, Catnip. Bad idea!"

"Hawthorne, please? I'll cover for you with Hazelle tonight and you can sleep it off on our couch."

Gale mulled this over for a moment, "Fuck. You've got me in a corner here, mom's going to be pissed about this," he gestured with a large hand swooping up and down his person, indicating his drunkenness and stopping to point at his face, "these love bites take it to a whole new level."

"So, tomorrow? Shake on it." Katniss kissed the scar on her palm and extended her hand to Gale who was trying to encourage his foggy brain to think of a better alternative before repeating the action with his own hand and extending it out to her.

* * *

When we reach his makeshift studio, Peeta tentatively opens the door, holds it for me to enter, and then stands in the doorway. His work is spectacular and surprising, I saw the pieces from Bubby's room, but it is much different to bear witness to stacks of colorful canvas depicting various aspects of Peeta's life. My eyes are fixated on a particularly riveting canvas when I feel Peeta's arms wrap around me from behind. His face burrows into the side of my neck, "You're making me really self conscious, standing there examining every detail." His lips are close enough to my skin that I can feel every word as he carefully enunciates, even though they never actually graze my goose pimpled flesh. The hair on the back of my arms stands at attention, my spine arcs into Peeta's chest, and my nipples tighten from the feel of his hot breath against me. _It feels so good, so impossibly good_, I can't help but imagine what it would be like to feel Peeta's breath against my skin as he moved on top of me.

I reach a hand back and wrap it around Peeta's neck, leaning my head onto his shoulder to intentionally open up the expanse of skin on my neck. _Put your mouth on me_. As I thread my fingers through the silky hair at the base of Peeta's neck, he pushes back the collar of his t-shirt on my frame and begins softly caressing my collarbone with his lips. His arms tighten around me, and I gasp as his fingers lightly skim over the top of one nipple through the shirt. This is the first time Peeta has touched my chest, my nipples instantly elongate, begging to be touched again. The animalistic groan I release spurs Peeta on and his hips thrust into my backside as he palms my breasts, one in each hand, and roughly runs his thumbs back and forth over them.

He trails open mouth kisses up my neck, nibbling on my chin and prompting me to turn my head and pull him into a kiss. I thought it was his eyes that were my undoing, _I was so fucking wrong_, it's the way he kisses me and makes the entire world disappear. The texture of his slightly, perpetually, chapped lips are rough against my own, prompting, pulling, and orchestrating mine to move against his. One of Peeta's hands slips from my breast and slides down my body to rest heavily against the juncture of my thighs. Just as his tongue slides into my mouth Peeta's hands apply pressure, one tightly pressed against my core and the other grasping my breast, as he draws me firmly in rocking his hips.

Fire spreads where Peeta's masculine hands press against my body. We awkwardly maneuver through this sideways kiss. I want to taste him deeper, hold our bodies flush and kiss him until I see spots from lack of oxygen. We break apart, gasping for air, "How about we amend the rules?" Peeta whispers into my ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth, I whimper at the sensation of tingling that is spreading from the lobe to the outer shell of my ear, the hair on the back on my neck stands on end.

"What are you suggesting?" The voice coming from me is not my own, it sounds distant and distorted, as if I am hearing it through a pane of glass.

Peeta's hands rest heavy on my hip bones, above where the hem of my shirt falls, "We can have it one way or the other. Clothes and touching, or naked and hands to ourselves."

He keeps his hands on the hem of my shirt, held tight to my body as he slowly begins to inch it up. "Fuck. Peeta, where's the fun in that?" Peeta's hands are bunched in the shirt, which he has resting on my waist now. Cold air nips at the sliver of skin exposed to air.

A low hum is coming from the back of Peeta's throat, "Oh there is plenty of fun to be had in that." He playfully growls as his hips suggestively push against me from behind. His fabric covered hands come back into contact with my breasts and I hiss, my knees actually buckle and I dip into him. Peeta roughly kneads at them through the shirt eliciting another sharp push of air from my lips.

The anticipation of what fun Peeta is getting ready to school me in has caused me to ruin my panties, _I'll be out of them soon anyway_. "I take it we're getting naked first?" _Perfect_. Once naked there would be nothing inhibiting us from going all the way. Does Peeta really think he could stop himself if we were naked and this worked up? I shiver with eagerness_, it_ _took long enough_. "Hmm. So, there would be nothing preventing a little slip up, would there?" I try to play it off as sarcastic, but I know I come off a little more eagerly than I was trying for. _I need to feel him inside me_. "Enlighten me Peeta, is playing just the tip against the rules if we aren't touching with our hands?"

"Christ Katniss," Peeta grunts as his hands drop the shirt and he starts to rub me through the thin, cotton boxer shorts I borrowed from him this morning. He ruts his erection into my back as his hand moves in a circular motion against the shorts. Despite the minimal foreplay, my panties are saturated and the fabric under Peeta's thick fingers slides tantalizingly over me. A delicious tickle of electricity eases out from my center, relaxing me and causing a slow, casual build to begin below my navel. I am vaguely aware of the noises escaping my mouth, but too far gone to care, "you aren't afraid to ask for what you want, are you? Do you even realize what you do to me?" Peeta's words come out clipped and deep.

I slip my hand behind my back and run it up and down his length. His athletic shorts are loose enough I could probably grasp him entirely if he wasn't holding me in place, a prisoner to the movements he is making against me. "I just want you Peeta, only you."

And, in this moment it's true. I haven't, and can't, imagine ever feeling this way about anyone again. In a hasty movement, that leaves me feeling slightly dizzy, Peeta turns me around and crushes my body to his as he forcefully presses his mouth to mine. I hitch my leg and Peeta doesn't miss a beat as he grabs it and wraps it around his hip joint. His hands cup my ass and I feel him lift me up, when my center comes into contact with the front of his shorts I almost come from the feeling of him pushing against me through the thin material of the boxers.

Then, _because the pizza guy is the biggest fucking cock block known to man_, the doorbell rings.

It rings once, and then again, and finally a third time before Peeta curses under his breath and gently lowers me to the floor. "Fuck me." He runs a hand through his mussed hair and reaches into his shorts, my eyes bulge when I realize that he has arranged himself straight up and that the dark pink skin barely peeking from the top of the elastic band is the head of his erect cock.

"Believe me, I'm trying." Peeta's shirt has fallen back down, effectively blocking my view, but I find myself staring at the spot and struggling to find the words to be witty.

The doorbell rings again, "Guess I'd better get that." Peeta looks flustered as he says this, the outline of his manhood easily visibly through the athletic shorts.

"I got this, I'm the one that ordered it anyways, besides I may be completely soaked, but it's a lot less obvious than your dick there." I point towards Peeta's crotch and smile, he chuckles lightly, muses something about how vulgar I am and then kisses me on the forehead.

I don't even bother trying to hide my wrinkled shirt, wrecked hair and flushed cheeks before I pay for the pizza that I quickly deposit on the kitchen table. Peeta hasn't joined me yet, so I walk back to his studio and find him standing in front of a table scattered with art supplies. "Want some pizza?"

Peeta turns to face me, "I'd prefer you naked." His voice is deep as his eyes rove slowly from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Emboldened by the husk in his voice and the way he is undressing me with his eyes, I reach down and pull the shirt from my frame before slipping my hands in the waistband of the boxers, sliding them down my legs. I've never been self conscious, conversely, I've never really found myself to be anything extraordinary either, but the way that Peeta is looking at me makes me feel like the most beautiful thing in the entire world. "Underwear and bra too." The way he talks to me causes my thighs to clench together, and I can feel the muscles in my pelvic floor tightening and pulling, reaching for Peeta from across the room.

My mouth is suddenly parched and I wet my lips nervously, my hands move of their own accord and meet between my breasts to unclasp my bra. As I slide the thin straps from my shoulders and drop the garment to the floor, Peeta crosses the room and stands mere inches in front of me with his eyes trained on my chest. _So close, but so far away_. His breathing has quickened and is coming in rapid bursts, I can smell the toothpaste I tasted on him earlier. When my panties join the bra on the floor Peeta exhales loudly and visibly trembles like it's the most difficult thing in the world to prevent himself from touching me.

"You are so gorgeous." I step towards him and he takes one step back, despite knowing the rules my heart drops and so do my eyes as my hands go to cover myself. When my eyes drop, I notice that Peeta is grasping some paintbrushes in his hand. "Don't do that," he chides, "remember I want to touch you, I just can't because you know as well as I do that if I touch you it's all over." He steps closer to me, and I can smell the mint on his breath all over again, "We need to take this slow Katniss, lay the groundwork, it'll be worth it in the end." My body tilts towards his and he leans down and places a light kiss to my forehead.

"I don't know about that, but I do know that if we are going through with whatever is getting ready to happen, then you need to strip too, Mellark. It's only fair." I try to keep the quiver out of my voice, but Peeta hears it, I can tell by the way his ass clenches and hips tilt forward almost imperceptibly. He knows how bad I want him and as he undresses in front of me, his shirt, shorts, and underwear joining mine, I see how bad he wants me.

We both take a step backward so we can really examine each other. Peeta is definitely not hung like a toddler, but he isn't terrifyingly large either, in fact he is perfect. Coarse, dark blonde hair trails from his belly button to his cock, which is not too big, not too small, thick but having him inside me won't be like trying to sit on a soda can. _Ideal_. My eyes trace back up and really look at the hair trailing down his lower stomach, and I am surprised to realize that it is actually a lot darker than the hair on his head. A giggle escapes my lips, _Peeta's drapes and carpets don't match_.

"Well, that's the last thing a guy wants to hear when he takes his pants off." It's his turn to get embarrassed and his hands awkwardly fold over his hard cock, barely hiding it.

I'm laughing so hard now that I have a difficult time answering him, "It's just, well, I think I expected your, uh, hair to match the hair on your head." I'm not sure if the laughter is nerves, but it continues to bubble out of me.

Luckily Peeta smiles at me and soon he is laughing as hard as I am, "I didn't realize you had thought so much about my pubic hair."

My response catches in my throat as I notice the slight ripple of the muscles of Peeta's abdomen, the moment is ridiculous, full of mirth and fun, but staring at Peeta's nude form makes me remember how bad I want him. The laughter dies down and we are left staring at one another again. Several minutes pass, we just stand there naked and unsure how to proceed with the rules that we have set for ourselves.

"Are we waiting for crickets to start chirping or are we going to fucking do this already?" I bark out and Peeta shoots me that cocky grin. "What are we doing by the way? Just staring at each other and telepathically trying to make the other come?" My nervous energy and the weighty sexual tension in the room is causing me to chatter incessantly, "sounds like all the fun I never wanted to have."

"Follow me." His tone is serious, his eyes are twinkling and his cock is still standing beautifully at attention. Peeta says follow and I do, he leads me into his bedroom and yanks the comforter and sheets to the floor. "Remember the other day in your kitchen?" Of course I do, we dry humped against the counter and then ate cinnamon rolls and eggs with Johanna, but I get the feeling that this is not what Peeta is talking about.

"You told me you touched yourself thinking about me." _Oh yeah_, I do remember that and suddenly I get nervous because I think I know what Peeta has in mind. His eyes close and his cheeks flush, "I want you to show me." When he says this he opens his eyes and connects them with mine bashfully. _God, he's fucking adorable_. How can I say no to him when he looks at me like that?

"Okay." I smile shyly at him, I'm suddenly nervous. This is a first for me.

"Come lay beside me," Peeta sits down on the edge of the bed, his muscular thighs draped over the edge, and the deep pink skin of his cock obvious between his legs. I settle onto the bed near him, my shoulders and head propped up on the pillow, staring into Peeta's eyes. He leans over me, his cock heavy between his legs, mere inches from coming into contact with my skin. It is absurd how tough it has become for me to not reach out and touch him. I am frustrated, yet actually enjoying this game. "Can I touch you with this?" Peeta holds up a paint brush, the bristles of which are arranged like a small fan, I nod my assent.

Peeta uses the brush to lightly trace the skin between my ear and neck, before running it down my chest to focus on the curve underneath my breast. The fanned brush glides over my skin, tickling and inciting tiny electric bursts in its path. I sigh deeply, my eyes close and I focus on the sensations that the bristles are inciting within me. A whimper escapes my lips as I feel him run the brush in lazy circles around the mounds of my breasts. I forget that I am supposed to be touching myself because I prefer these indirect and intentional touches from Peeta. I roll my shoulders back, pushing out my chest towards him, the whimpering has not ceased. He tightens the circles he is drawing, making shorter passes, and closing in on my sensitive nipples. Peeta isn't moving fast enough, I want that brush on my nipples immediately, but he has slowed his deliberate passes and seems to be intentionally avoiding them.

I prop myself up on my elbows pushing my chest closer to him, Peeta knows what I want him to do. I can tell because he raises his eyebrow at me and gives me smug smirk. _Someone is enjoying himself_. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he starts flicking the brush rapidly over my nipples. A deep moan slides from my throat and I arch up to meet the increasing fluttering of the soft brush against me. The moaning is steady now, occasionally coming out as a whine when the sensations become too much. And, they really are too much, Peeta's careful attentions with the brush has left my skin overly sensitive.

"I really want to touch you, but this will have to do for now." Peeta admits, with just a hint of shyness.

My teeth are nervously working over my bottom lip, my chest is heaving from breathing so hard, and between my legs a steady stream of liquid silk pulses from me."I want that too, Peeta." I rasp out as he fans the bristles over the edge of my hips and lightly traces down the inside of my thighs to my knees, which bow out just slightly in response to the tickling sensation.

The brush is swirling over my calves, but Peeta's eyes are staring intently between my legs. "You're so wet, I can actually _see_ it." His voice is quiet, like he didn't mean to say what he was thinking out loud, it doesn't surprise me that he can see how aroused I am. Peeta circles the brush down around my ankles and then loops up towards my thighs again. I notice that his other hand is rubbing up and down his thigh, dangerously close to his beautiful cock.

"It's for you, I want you." I can only manage a croaked response.

"Will you show me? Show me how you want me to touch you." I've never done this in front of anyone, ever. I'm a bit embarrassed, but to ruin this moment with my refusal would be criminal. He continues working the brush slowly over my skin, driving me crazy and my hand dips between my legs as I start to stroke the front my slit. The brush stills on my skin, Peeta's eyes are trained on my hand as I work my middle finger in between my folds and quicken the pace of my rubbing.

The sensation of the brush has disappeared completely and I realize that Peeta is sitting with both hands gripping his knees, eyes watching the movements of my fingers. "You too." The words escape my lips and Peeta looks at me shocked, I'm already mid build, climbing closer and closer to my release. I am intentionally avoiding my clit, not ready for this moment to be over yet. Peeta's hand begins working between his thighs, but my view is obscured, I stop touching myself and sit up a bit further on the pillows. "I want to see, come closer."

I lean back and let my legs fall completely open, rewarding Peeta by exposing myself to him completely. Peeta groans loudlyand he exhales shakily as he shifts on the bed, suddenly I have full viewing access to each stroke of his hand over his cock.

I find myself imagining it is my mouth sheathing him instead of his fist, "Soon, I'll take you in my mouth." I cry out.

"Oh god!" Peeta moans and leans over, bracing himself on the bed with his free hand as he pumps faster.

I stop withholding the pleasure of stroking my clit and roughly press two fingers against it, rubbing tight calculating motions. "Come, Peeta." The words drip from my mouth as I push myself over the edge, my legs quake and spasm as I watch Peeta tighten his grasp on himself and stroke deeply before spilling out onto his fingers and the sheet.

He immediately falls over, his head aligned with my knee and his arm lightly splayed over my calf. "Shit, that was the most spectacular thing I think I've ever seen." Peeta raises his head and plants a kiss on my knee, "You're still trembling."

Peeta is right, I am still trembling, the aftershock of my orgasm still coursing through my nervous system. I thread my hand through his hair and play with the curling blonde ends, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply in response. I'm starting to figure out what true intimacy is all about, it is terrifying and I feel overwhelmed. I can't get up and put distance between us without hurting him, I know this much from his response earlier, but I need some space to process what just happened."You should go get the pizza, I'm hungry."

I tell him this and he props himself up on his elbows and grins, completely unaware of the inner turmoil I am battling right now. "Sure thing, I'm starved after all that activity." Peeta's eyes dance as he mockingly waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively, my heart clenches a bit at how adorable he is, but more than anything I just want him to step out of the room so I can catch my breath.

For the first time I am relieved that Peeta is making us wait. He didn't touch me and I didn't touch him, yet the emotional impact of what we just did is the most profound thing I have ever felt. I really care for him. I want to be with him. And, most of all I'm scared shitless that I will fuck this and him up. I am beginning to fear how my heart will respond to actually touching him and feeling him move inside me. _Would the result of making love to Peeta be that I actually fell in love with him? _A month ago I would have found the thought hilarious and improbable, yet I can't shake the feeling that it is now a legitimate question.

* * *

**A/N: It's a bit silly how long I it took me to get the scene with the brush how I wanted it, I _hope_ it wasn't too much. :) As always, thank you to my fantastic beta, Wildharp! I'd also like to thank the-magnificently-angry-beaver, hotpielookedlikehotpie (the awkward boners are dedicated to you), and deedubwest for helping me fine tune pieces of the story, I appreciate it so very much!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I wrote a one-shot in Peeta's POV that includes specific aspects of the following chapter. It's titled **_**The Rules: First Speech Outtake**_** and you can find it by clicking my username and 'My Stories'. I had never written a Peeta POV before and wanted to give it a try, so if you read it and you'd like to 'hear' more from Peeta let me know!**

* * *

By the time Peeta returns with the pizza, my anxiety has practically doubled. I don't know what I'm doing here with him, yet my heart clenches painfully at the thought of not being around him. It's a conundrum that I'm too tired, and hungry, to deal with right now. Even the euphoria of my orgasm is short lived when I see Peeta standing completely nude in the doorway, he is holding the pizza box and even though I just saw him two minutes ago I get the flutters deep in my stomach. I tell myself that it is because it's hungry, but I know better.

"I hope you like cold pizza because it's my favorite."

I stand and pull the sheet from the floor then wrap it around me. "I'm going to grab the clothes from down the hall." Peeta plops the pizza down on the bed and gives me a cocky grin as he leans over and tugs the sheet from my body.

His eyes rove my over me appraising my figure closely, even though we just spent the last thirty minutes watching each other self fulfill, "How about we just stay in here and eat and enjoy being naked for awhile?"

The weight on my chest dissipates a bit from the warmth of Peeta's gaze, "Fine. We'll eat naked, but I think we both need to wash our hands before we touch any food." When I feel my lips curl up I'm not even mad at myself for encouraging this behavior. I want to let him in, _I really do_, I just know that this won't end well for either of us, because I'm not sure my heart has the capacity to love like he deserves to be loved.

We eat pizza in Peeta's bed naked before changing the sheets and crawling back into them. He puts on a movie and pulls me close to him. I relish the feeling of his bare chest against my cheek, and his hard thigh pressed tightly to me. I'm becoming aroused again, but I try not to focus on it because I'm not ready to share any type of intimacy with him again tonight. It's probably time for me to go.

"I really need to go check on Harper. Johanna doesn't mind taking care of him, but I miss my boy."

Peeta makes an exaggerated pouty face, "Are you sure? I'd love for you to stay."

"I'd like to, I really would." I try to waggle my eyebrows at him, but I'm pretty sure I just raise them a few times, "especially if we can play with that paint brush again."

"Oh really?" Peeta leans in and nuzzles my nose before pulling my bottom lip between his and kissing me softly, "You liked that didn't you?" He asks as he pulls away.

"Just as much as you did."

He groans and captures my lips in another kiss, rougher this time with more heat behind it, "You have no idea. If you're going to leave you better go before I have to go see what other art supplies I can find."

I roll over to get out of bed, and he smacks me on the ass playfully, "I don't mind you leaving if it means I get to watch you walk away."

That was possibly the lamest line that he could have said, yet I can't stop laughing. I'm giggling as I turn around, "You think you are really clever, don't you?"

"I must be because now I get to watch your boobs jiggle as you laugh." I grip the sheet and pull it away leaving him just as exposed as I am. Peeta's cock is beginning to stiffen; I am pleasantly surprised to find that he is already getting hard again.

"Nice dick, Mellark."

He sweeps his hand in the air directly over his groin, "I'm glad you approve."

I shake my head at him, and do my best to ignore the fact that I am starting to get wet again. "I really have to be going."

He gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of shorts as I am getting dressed. "Let me walk you out." Peeta keeps tugging at my braid as we walk down the hallway. When we reach the door he pulls me into a hug and places a gentle kiss to my neck. "Text me before you go to bed, okay? Maybe we can see a movie tomorrow."

"Okay. Sounds good. I'll see you later." I lean up and kiss him quickly on the mouth, and as I walk out the door I realize that sometime between the pizza and the movie, with every laugh that Peeta elicited from me the wariness that I had been initially feeling had completely disappeared.

I check my phone when I reach the car and realize I've got two new voicemails, one from an unknown number and the other from Gale. I skip listening to them and call Gale back.

He picks up on the first ring, "Hey Catnip, what's going on?"

"Not much, saw you called." I put the key in the ignition and lock my belt into place.

"I did. Madge wanted to know if you would like to have lunch tomorrow or the day after." _Fuck_. I don't want to have lunch with Madge, but I really like having Gale back in my life.

"Um, but she's an hour away, and I have to work tomorrow." Hopefully this is enough to get me out of having to be buddies with my best friend's fiancé.

"Okay so the day after next it is, she said she'll come to you." Of course they had already planned out an answer, Gale knows me well enough to know that lunch with a girl who is practically a stranger isn't my idea of fun.

I'm in a corner. I want Gale to know that I'm okay with him getting married and that I support him, but I really don't want to eat with _her _without him around, "Sure. Sounds great. Have her text me okay?" This won't be fun.

The line is quiet, "You're not fooling anyone Catnip, but I appreciate the effort. She called earlier and left a message, so the next time she calls, pick up okay?"

I agree and get off the line with Gale. I wonder what his pretty little fiancé is up to. She doesn't seem the type to do anything disingenuous so maybe she just wants to get to know me, but I have my doubts.

* * *

_1997: 7 years & 9 years old..._

The girl's braids bounced against her back as she skipped happily into the house and placed a carefully wrapped gift on a table full of presents covered in super hero paper. Her costume was perfect. Every detail just like it should be, the waffling on the shell was flawless, her hair ties matched the scarf that doubled as a mask, even the twin sai's on her weapon belt were just as they should be. She scoffed and rolled her eyes as she remembered that her mom had called them daggers, _silly moms think they know everything_, but her mom didn't even know the right name for Raphael's weapons.

When her best friend told her about his super hero themed birthday party she immediately began working on her costume. Her mom had to do most of the sewing and cutting, but Katniss had painstakingly traced the waffling on the shell and carefully cut holes into a red scarf for the mask. She was extraordinarily proud of the effort that had been put into her costume, and she couldn't wait to show Gale. They were going to surprise each other with their costumes, well it was supposed to be a surprise, but Katniss was pretty sure that the boy would be Batman because he_ loved_ Batman.

She felt a squeeze on her shoulder and turned around to find Hazelle Hawthorne ready to scoop her into a hug, "Hey there's my favorite Ninja Turtle, you look fantastic Katniss. The boys are out back in the fort if you want to go join them." The small girl returned the hug with vigor before snatching a cookie off of a plate and letting herself out back.

The fort was one of her and Gale's most favorite places in the entire world. It was a small shed that their fathers had converted into a play space for the two children, to anyone else it was insignificant, but to them it meant freedom from their younger siblings and parents. They spent hours in there trading Pokémon cards, whispering stories back and forth, and occasionally their mom's even let them have the sleepover on warm nights.

There was a prominent space left in the absence of his two front teeth, and the dark haired boy was repeatedly blowing air through the gap, trying to create sound. He was surrounded by pint sized Power Rangers and trying to impress them with his ability to whistle through the gap, he was failing miserably. He felt out of place even though the party was for him. His mom had planned a super hero themed party at his request, the invitation stating to come as your favorite super hero, only no one gave him the memo that Power Rangers were the only _acceptable_ super hero. His cheeks were flushed underneath his Batman mask, he hoped that his school friends still thought he was cool.

As he was contemplating whether or not he had set himself up to be chosen last in dodge ball, a green blur with two braids breezed through the door and wrapped her arms around him. "Happy Birthday Hawthorne! I can't wait for you to open my present, it's totally rad." Words excitedly spilled from the girl's mouth.

A chorus of snickers rose from the Mighty Morphin crew behind him, "Oh yeah, rad," one squeaky voiced teased. "Cowabunga." Another voice sarcastically yelled out.

The worst though were the whispers, _I didn't know a girl was going to be here_, and _look at the Ninja Turtles costume, that is so lame_.

Gale's stomach hurt. Katniss was his best friend, but these were the guys in his class and they were not happy to see her here like he was. He would never live this down and he would be lucky to get picked at all for recess games of tag. _She'd understand if he explained later,_ he reasoned with himself as he roughly pushed her away from him, "Ew, gross! Sorry guys my mom made me invite _her_."

As the small hands connected with her chest, tears immediately pooled in her eyes and hurt festered in her tiny heart that was palpating rapidly. She expected this from the other boys, but not Gale. No, Gale was different, he was her best friend, and he _always_ wanted to play with her, always.

Gale stared at Katniss on the floor, tears soaking the red scarf tied around her eyes, he immediately regretted his hasty decision. Nothing was worth hurting his best friend for, nothing. Not even being popular with the boys in his class. He was unsure of what to do, but it quickly became clear when the Blue Power Ranger yelled, "That's what I'm talking about Hawthorne, you show that _girl_ that she doesn't belong with the boys." And by the time the Black Power Ranger quickly chimed in, "Only a _girl_ would like the Ninja Turtles." He was already moving towards Katniss and helping her up off the ground.

"Get out!" He screamed at the Power Rangers, "You guys are assholes!" His yells were punctuated by the sound of Katniss hiccupping as she tried to reign in her sobs.

"Big mistake, I'm taking the gift I brought and telling your mom what you called us." The Blue Power Ranger stated matter-of-factly, but Gale didn't care about presents. He only cared about making Katniss feel better.

"Go ahead, I don't like you guys anyway and I'd rather hang out with Catnip any day than you losers."

As the Mighty Morphin crew let themselves out, Gale apologized to his best friend, "I'm sorry Catnip. You didn't deserve that, you're my best friend and the only one that matters. I was just being stupid, please don't cry."

The petite child looked up at the boy through thick lashes clumped together with her salty tears, "You mean it?"

"Uh, huh. It doesn't matter what they say. I'd rather have a girl as a best friend than dumb buttheads any day."

The girl grinned, "I'm still pretty mad, but I figure Hazelle is going to soap your mouth good when she hears about the word you used."

By the time Hazelle made her way out to the fort and found the two children, they were laying face-to-face on their stomachs playing with their favorite action figures. She had a pretty good idea what had gone down from the boys who had rushed to her tattling and asking to use the phone. She smiled to herself, there were a lot worse crimes that her eldest son could be guilty of. Hazelle couldn't help but be proud of him for sticking up for his younger, female best friend.

While she may have been proud of him, she couldn't let one thing slide. So, when Gale finally got to have a piece of his birthday cake all he could taste was the soap his mom had used to punish him for using the word 'asshole'.

* * *

_2012: Present Day_

Peeta and I are in my bedroom.

I was straddling his lap, grinding into him as he sucked and nibbled on the most sensitive spot on my neck when he made an unexpected request to see me use my vibrator, or well my 'friend' as he likes to call it.

We had a slightly awkward dinner because I finally brought up the safe sex issue. I have a feeling we aren't far from that point, especially now if I'm going to introduce him to my battery operated Peeta substitute. I'd much rather have the 'when was the last time you were tested' conversation when we weren't naked and getting ready to have sex. He was really pretty cool about the whole thing and I shouldn't have been surprised seeing as he is a health care professional and all.

Peeta's request was a bit unexpected, but as the words, "Show me how you use the thing in your closet," tumbled from his mouth I knew that I would do it. I'm standing in front of him now holding the toy in my hands. I'm nervous so I keep switching it on and off.

I know we kind of did this yesterday and I really enjoyed myself, but I just really wish I was going to be with Peeta and not my back up plan. The rules are pretty simple and I think that if Peeta can use a paint brush on me, then the vibrator should be the same type of thing, "Technically speaking, I mean, with the rules and all, can't you touch me with this?"

His eyes widen a little and his cheeks tint pink. I don't think he was expecting me to ask for this, but he plays along, "I don't see why not." His hand reaches out and he takes the vibrator from me. "How does it work?" I show him how to turn it on and off, and he gives it a couple tries before smiling at me and making another request, "Will you show me how to get started?"

Peeta reaches for me and I join him on the bed. We resume the dry humping and make out session from before. My legs are wrapped around his waist, and I can feel his cock pushing into me. He is hard and I am wet, so as our hips move together I find that the friction we create is already causing me to build.

The kiss breaks, we are both panting hard and need to stop to breathe. He presses his forehead to mine and our eyes connect, and he closes his eyes before pushing up off of me and pulling my underwear and skirt from my body. I instantly snap my legs together. He may have seen me yesterday, but that doesn't mean I don't feel completely exposed today. I need to even the playing field, "Shuck some clothing, Mellark. It's only fair."

He quickly removes all of his clothing except his boxer shorts before hovering over my knees again, "Katniss, quit being shy I've seen you already, remember?"

I let my legs fall open, and Peeta stares at me. I fight the urge to become self conscious and barely hear him when he asks how to start. I don't really know how to answer because usually I take the quickest route to orgasm possible. I'm not really about prolonging the experience when all I want to do is make myself come and then go to sleep. "Well, I don't usually fuck around too much. When it's just me there isn't a lot of need for romance, so I pretty much just crank up the vibration and direct it on my clit."

I hear the vibrator before I feel it, but when I do feel it I'm a bit startled. Usually I warm it in my hands, Peeta doesn't though so when he starts to run it up and down my crease I nearly jump out of my skin, the smooth plastic is cool against the heat of me. The contrast feels wonderful and almost too much. I take my knees in my hands and pull my legs up more making my clit more accessible since he can't directly touch me.

When Peeta touches the vibrator directly to my most sensitive external spot, I almost come undone right then. I hear him take in a sharp breath and feel him slide the tip into me slightly. This is what I need, I am literally aching for something to fill me. I may know what I want, but I still have to tell Peeta, "That's good. Turn the vibration off." I tell him and start to grab at my breasts and tweak my nipples through my shirt.

I open my eyes and see Peeta concentrating hard, focusing all of his attention on slipping the toy in and out of me. Each time he pulls it out he grazes my clit, "Fuck Peeta, oh god." I can feel every muscle in my body tightening, I can't keep my hands off of my chest as I roughly grab at myself. Peeta's movements slow down a bit, I think he is teasing me, but I'm wound tight and want to come, soon.

I know what I need to come undone. The easiest way for me to come from penetration is when I'm on my elbows and knees, so I flip over and assume that position. I know that this completely exposes every inch of me, and I don't care. I don't care about anything right now aside from Peeta fucking me with my vibrator.

I never knew it could be so good, and I plan on milking it for all that it is worth. He slips the vibrator back inside me almost all the way to the hilt, it feels fantastic, but when he pulls it out he hits the one spot that will make me see black. He plunges the toy all the way back in and I like it, but I'd prefer the shallow thrusts that will cause me to come undone.

"Not so deep, hit the spot, hit my spot." I'm hanging from the precipice, begging to be thrown over and only Peeta can bring me the relief I need.

My hips are thrusting back up against Peeta and I'm so close, so very close. I can feel my clit throbbing and I reach between my legs to help rub myself into oblivion. I never make it there because I feel hot suction as something latches onto me. My hips buck up in response and I can feel the scratch of Peeta's facial scruff against my ass. _Peeta's mouth is on me_. His lips zero in on my clit and he sucks it into his mouth.

There are noises coming from my throat. They are high pitched and whiny and completely unlike me, but they only increase as Peeta sucks hard on my clit and continues pushing the vibrator in and out of me. He pulls away and starts flicking his tongue back and forth between my swollen folds before sucking the overly sensitive sliver of flesh and nerve back into his mouth.

I fall apart.

This is not a run of the mill orgasm. I actually fall, my legs become unable to bear weight and I crumble onto the bed in a heap of sweaty, trembling limbs. I've never experienced anything like that before, and it wasn't even Peeta inside of me.

I suddenly need him close to me, he is right behind me on the bed, but he feels miles away. I roll over and lay on the pillow, "Peeta come here." I unexpectedly experience clarity. My feelings are still petrifying, but more terrifying is the thought that Peeta doesn't know that he is special to me, that I care for him.

The words stick to my tongue and come out unpracticed and barely intelligible, "You are something else, you know that. I, uh, I…you're important to me, you know that, right?" I can't bear to look him in the eye so instead I kiss him and it feels right, it feels perfect, and oddly it feels like exactly where I should be.

* * *

Lunch with Madge is proving to be a very awkward affair.

After we exchange pleasantries, conversation becomes stilted and Madge tries to ask about Peeta. Part of me wants to fill her in on the details and see what she thinks about the situation, but I don't do it. I've never been one for girl talk, and there is no way I'm going to start now on account of a certain blonde nurse.

I give her the basics, which consists of me telling her that our misunderstanding has been resolved and that he doesn't have a child. She asks a lot of questions about Bubby, but they aren't mine to answer so I deflect back to the menus we are perusing. I know she will pass the information along to Gale. I find this comforting because I want Gale to like Peeta, and the way that I left last time I pretty much ensured that he would never be a fan.

By the time the waiter takes our order, we have run out of things to talk about and have taken to uncomfortable silence. "Thanks for meeting me for lunch." Madge quietly says as the waiter drops off our salads. She looks nervous. This should be interesting.

"Uh, sure thing. Got to eat and all." I leave out the part where I am trying to make an effort for Gale. Her pale pink lips are painted with a shimmery gloss that makes the tight, thin lipped smile she is giving me appear like she is making a funny face. Girl has got something serious on her mind. I'm not sure whether I should be nervous or scared. "Spill it." I encourage because I'm tired of polite conversation and want to know the real reason why she drove over an hour to eat lunch at a shitty diner with me.

Madge's face scrunches up and her eyes start watering, "I messed up, Katniss. I'm so sorry."

A thousand thoughts race through my head, the first being that she cheated on Gale or something else deplorable. My hand grips my fork tightly and my teeth grit, if she is getting ready to admit to doing something that hurts my best friend I'm not sure there is anything that could stop me from smearing her pretty lip gloss with my fist.

"What did you do?" I ask through clenched teeth.

Her pale blue eyes widen, she appears a bit startled at my intensity, but I don't fuck around when it comes to people that I care about. "I just…well, I was always so jealous of you and I know that isn't fair at all. Especially now that I know you, I realize it really was never an issue." The words tumble from her mouth and I have a hard time keeping up with what she is saying. "I think it's my fault that you and Gale have been a bit estranged and I feel terrible, just horrible about it."

My hold on my fork loosens, and I take a deep breath before stabbing at some lettuce. I'm not sure I am any better equipped to handle this conversation over her confessing that she had done something to hurt Gale."I doubt that it is your fault. I'm not sure what was going on there for awhile, but I knew if I needed him he would be there, and I'm sure the feeling was mutual on his part."

I shove salad in my mouth and stare into the bowl as I push the greens around, "You guys were busy being in love and shit. I can't fault you for that." I do fault both of them, but I'm trying to make nice here and admitting that I kind of hated her at first isn't going to help me. _Okay, I really hated her and her stupid scented stationary._

Madge giggles a bit and I look up from my salad to see her grinning at me, "Sometimes you remind me so much of Gale. The way you talk, the things you say, even the funny little palm rub that you do." Her face falls a little bit, "That's why I feel just wretched about how I acted." I'm not sure I can handle Madge with all her guilt issues and I should probably tell her that the more she talks I'm reconsidering the fact that I was starting to like her.

"He just loved you for so long, you can understand why I acted the way I did, can't you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean Madge, we've known each other our entire lives and when our dads died we held one another together. Of course we love each other." Apprehension is rising in my chest. I thought Madge was cooler than this, but I'm getting concerned that she is getting ready to tell me that Gale doesn't have room for a wife and a best friend in his life.

"Katniss, he didn't just love you…" her words trail off and she takes a big breath before finishing, "he was _in love_ with you." And there she goes speaking the words I've been trying to avoid hearing.

"Riiiggght. That makes about as much sense as the scented invitations you sent out." My tone is biting, but only because I believe her. Everyone has been telling me as much, and it was easy to ignore it until the one person in the world who wouldn't want for that to be true is the one telling me so. Madge's head is cast down towards her lap.

_She's here for a reason_, I try and remind myself, _she is apologizing to you she wants to make things right_. Gale would kill me if I scared off his fiancé two weeks before the wedding. "What was in the past doesn't matter now, Madge. He loves you. I can tell in the way he talks about you. He _thought_ he was in love with me, but the way he loves you is incomparable." A single tear streaks down her face. I'm not sure how this turned into her apologizing to me to me comforting her. There isn't much more I can say and I'm rapidly becoming uncomfortable. I don't do emotions well. "You know you can trust me, right? If I know anything, I know Gale."

"I hope you don't hate me, but I have to tell you something. When we got engaged, Gale wanted to ask you to be his 'best man' since you are his oldest, closest friend. I'm ashamed to say I threw a huge fit and said that I didn't even want you at the wedding. I'm so sorry Katniss, I didn't know you and I am just appalled at what a bitch I was being."

Gale should have stood up for me more, I mean he did make sure I was invited to the wedding, but I can't believe he allowed her to dismiss me that easily, "Why are you telling me this? You know you aren't winning any brownie points with that story there." I'm pissed and hurt.

"Because I want to make it right, I have to make it right. It would mean the world to Gale and I if you would do us the honor of standing beside him at the wedding. I'm not sure what we will call you, but it would be the equivalent of best man." Madge's tone is pleading, and her voice wavers like she is about to burst into sobs in the middle of the diner.

I want to say yes, but I don't want to make it easy on her. Of course I want to be Gale's best man, even if he sometimes does stupid stuff, like not stand up for me, he is practically my brother. Then I remember his actual brothers, "What about Rory and Vick?"

"Gale is having Rory and Vick be groomsmen because he couldn't choose one or the other. Please Katniss?" I should make her suffer a bit more, refuse to do this, but I'm too excited.

This is how it should have been all along, this is part of the reason I was so pissed to get the invite. It hurt to not be part of the most important day in my best friend's life. I'm still not sure how I feel about Madge, she gets points for wanting to make this right, but it burns that she has to fix her epic screw up in the first place.

"I'll do it. I'm still pissed at you, but I'll do it for Gale."

"I was hoping you would say that. I've got a garment bag in the car with your outfit in it. You may have to get it tailored, but Prim helped me pick it out and she said you would love it, and the fit should be correct." Hmm, this should be interesting. I better not be in a hideous bridesmaids dress or I'll kill Madge, and Prim.

We finish our meal in silence, it's still uncomfortable, but Madge seems different, happier. When she reaches for the check I let her pay for it and don't even put up a fuss because I'm still trying to make out how I feel about the whole situation.

I'd do anything for Gale though, even if it means eventually forgiving his fiancé. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it though.

She hands me a garment bag and a gives me a quick, unwelcome hug before getting in the car. "You are coming to the Stag party this weekend, aren't you?"

"Yeah I'm bringing beer. I confirmed with Thresh awhile back."

"Are you bringing Peeta?"

I hadn't thought about bringing Peeta. This isn't just some party, this is a party in my hometown where we would be drinking and have to spend the night. "Uh, I hadn't really thought about it, I was planning on bringing my roommate though."

"You should bring him too, Katniss. I'd love to meet him and the party is supposed to be a lot of fun. Thresh and his sister have been planning it for awhile now."

I'll ask him, but it seems like he is either working or with Bubby on the weekends. He probably won't be able to go. I try to reassure myself, but my heart is thrumming in my chest. I'm nervous. I'm not sure if it is about taking Peeta home or the possibility that he wouldn't want to go with me.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you guys for being patient with me! I know that this update took awhile, but if you would like to have an immediate **_**First Speech**_** fix then I recommend checking out the outtake I mentioned previously.**

**Thank you for the reviews, follows, favorites, and a big thank you to my wonderful beta fish, Wildharp!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games and characters, also I do not have any rights to the song 'Blue Eyes'.**

* * *

Work flew by after my lunch with Madge. Peeta and Johanna are both working tonight, so I find myself alone, on the couch with my head spinning from Madge's admission about how Gale once felt. Usually I'm left fretting over what is going on between Peeta and I, now I find that I don't like worrying about this anymore than things with Peeta.

Interestingly, I realize it's Peeta I want to talk to about this, I know at some point I need to talk with Gale, but I feel like Peeta would have helpful input on this topic. I'm not sure how to broach it, bringing up that my best friend once liked me as more than friends, is hard to admit to my boyfriend.

However, Peeta isn't my boyfriend. I hadn't considered it before, but he isn't. We haven't defined the relationship or anything. I don't think he is seeing anyone else. _When would he have the time?_ Yet, we have never had that 'come to Jesus moment' where we agree to see one another exclusively. I wonder if it is because he doesn't want to be exclusive with me, or if it just hasn't come up because he is waiting for me to initiate it. I need to stop myself before I'm ruminating about both Gale and Peeta. There is plenty of time to worry about Peeta and why we haven't DTR'ed, another time.

I push worries about defining our relationship to the back burner, with the Stag party rapidly approaching I need to work through these new Gale issues. Since Peeta's on shift, I send him a text message, and because I don't know how to ask him to talk about the two things I want to talk about, I remind him about a situation that we need to rectify soon.

_I can't wait to wrap my lips around your cock._ I type the message without really thinking about it. I know he is at work, and I assume it will be hours before I hear from him. I assumed wrong, and within thirty minutes my phone pings from its place on the coffee table.

_Are you trying to get me fired?_ The first message confuses me, but the second message clarifies. _I've got a boner now and I don't know how to hide it in these scrubs._

I feel myself smile even though it is just Harper and I in the living room, and I can just imagine Peeta struggling to rearrange himself. I'm reminded of the beautiful contrast of the pink skin of his engorged cock to his normally pale skin, and I realize how turned on I am making myself. My panties are becoming increasingly damp and my pelvic floor clenches. _Thanks for the imagery. I'll need it tonight when I use my 'friend'._ My response probably won't help the problem in Peeta's pants.

The next message from Peeta comes much later while I'm brushing my teeth and putting some serious thought into getting my vibrator out of the closet. _Pictures?_

_Yeah, right! I'll tell you about it if you make me breakfast. _I think on it for a minute and then add. _I have some stuff I wanted to talk to you about._

Peeta responds before my home screen even has time to lock. _Everything okay?_

_Yup. Just want your opinion._

_Okay. Sweet dreams._

_See you in the morning. Just let yourself in._

* * *

A light rapping on my bedroom door wakes me before the sun is even up, Peeta has arrived. I roll over and glance at the clock before groaning loudly, "Five more minutes?" I hear Peeta snicker behind the door before he lets himself in.

"Well, good morning to you too, Sunshine." He looks tired standing in the doorway wearing scrub pants and a white undershirt. He yawns loudly, and I notice that there is a faint purpling underneath his eyes, "I brought bagels, I'm too beat to cook."

I sit up and reach for him. Peeta walks over to the bed, leaning over to kiss me, "I'd sit down, but these are the pants I worked in all night, and the hospital is just crawling with nastiness." I remember my mom doing the same thing, stripping from her work clothes before she hugged any of us.

"Let the bagels wait, come to bed with me for a bit." My words are elongated by a long yawn as my body stretches itself, not quite ready to get up. Peeta strips his pants and shirt from his body and crawls under the covers with me in only his socks and boxer briefs.

"What's that?" He notices the garment bag in the corner, allowing me the perfect opening for talking about the entire situation concerning Gale.

"Lunch with Gale's fiancé took an interesting turn." I mention as I turn on my side and back my ass up into Peeta, _I like being little spoon_. He brushes the hair from my neck and nuzzles his face into the base of my spine. I know he isn't trying to distract me, rather get comfortable, but I am suddenly hyper aware of his muscular forearm draped over my stomach and the fact that my rear end is backed into his groin. I push down my arousal, _there will be time for that later_, I need to talk to him now before he goes to sleep. "Guess who is going to be the best man?"

Peeta lifts his face from my neck slightly, but not before I feel his lips curl into a smile. "Ah, what an honor Katniss, that is actually pretty cool." He plants a kiss on my ear lobe playfully, "Is that the dress you are wearing? I can't wait to see you in it."

The playfulness with which he is toying with my ear lobe is quickly becoming a distraction, he pulls the lobe between his teeth and his tongue flickers against it. My eyes roll back into my head as tiny slivers of electricity shoot from my ear all the way to my stomach. "Quit trying to distract me, I wanted to talk to you." The words coming from my mouth are asking him to stop, but my hips are rolling back into Peeta.

He pulls his mouth from my ear and places a quick kiss to the shell, "Sorry, I'm listening. You are going to be the best woman at the wedding, and the fiancé gave you a dress, go on."

"It's actually a suit, tuxedo thing cut for women, but that isn't what I want to talk about." Saying the words out loud is more difficult than I anticipated, and I waver between telling Peeta about the one shared kiss or just spitting the words out. "Apparently, at one time Gale was in love with me and I didn't really know. It used to bother Madge, and now it doesn't so I'm allowed to be in the wedding."

I feel Peeta tense behind me, maybe I should have gone with telling the entire story before just throwing that out there, it's too late now though, and the cat is out of the bag. I roll over to face him and his arm drops from my side to rest in between us, there is a frown on Peeta's face and I lace my fingers with his.

"Was Gale the guy you were getting over, when I first met you? I know you guys have been friends your whole life, but this is a little bit deeper than I thought."

"I made that guy up to dodge you. I haven't had a boyfriend for a few years." I had completely forgotten about telling Peeta I was getting over a failed relationship, _oops_, we've put each other through so much the last few weeks, I'm sure it is a non issue. "Gale and I never dated. He kissed me once, and I told him we were better as friends and that was that. People had hinted in the past that he had feelings for me, but I didn't realize how deep until Madge wanted to talk about it."

Peeta looks like he is putting a lot of thought into what I'm telling him, I appreciate that he is taking this seriously, but would prefer the attention he was giving my ear, "So, you are feeling conflicted about being in the wedding? Is that it?"

"No. It's more like I want to apologize for doing whatever it was that made him love me, but I don't feel comfortable addressing it. I could have lost him over this, and I was too self involved to even realize what was going on when he disappeared because I was wrapped up in being pissed at him instead of considering the reason why."

Peeta is looking at me with his lips pursed and eyebrows tilted in, he doesn't look concerned, maybe intrigued. "Katniss, he was in love with you for being you, you don't have to apologize for that, but maybe you should acknowledge that he felt that way. He's getting married soon, I doubt he wants to dwell on the past too much, but it would be nice of you to acknowledge that you now realize why he distanced himself from you."

"I'll talk to him at the Stag party, I need to let him know that I'm excited to be in the wedding any way." Peeta's eyelids are extremely droopy, and I can tell he is going to be asleep in a matter of minutes.

I want to talk about what we are too, but not while he is so tired. A part of me wants to know where I stand and another, louder part of my subconscious, isn't ready to have that conversation yet. Inviting him to the party is really the next logical step, and hopefully I can glean some intel into how he feels about me from his response to the invite.

"Speaking of the Stag party, it's on Friday and I was hoping that you would go with me. I mean, I know it's kind of a big step…and you usually have Bubby on the weekends or work…and I also know that you may just not want to go because we would have to stay with my mom…and then you would have to meet my mom." Inviting Peeta to the party has turned into a full fledge ramble as I stumble over my words, I'm nervous because if he says no and doesn't give a reason I will worry he doesn't want to actually be in a relationship. Then, I'm freaked out because I'm not sure when I decided I want to be in a relationship.

"Katniss I would love to go with you. It sounds like a lot of fun, I don't have to work because it's the weekend Bubby usually stays with me, but my brother can take Friday night and then when we get back on Saturday maybe you can finally meet them both."

Peeta's response is more than I was expecting. "Are you sure? I know that you wanted to keep me from meeting Bubby for awhile." I'd love to meet both of Peeta's brothers. The idea of what it means to Peeta for me to meet them would suggest that he is serious about what is going on between us too.

"Well, he wants to meet you." Peeta admits a bit sheepishly, "I kinda spilled the beans about you when he asked what I'd been up too. He could tell something was going on." It is quickly settled, within a matter of days, I will have met Peeta's family, and he will have gone home with me.

Four weeks ago I was accompanying Johanna to the bar while she trolled for men, completely single and presumably happy about the fact. Now, I find myself trying to figure out whether or not Peeta is my boyfriend and how he feels about me.

* * *

Johanna had the opportunity to get an additional shift. She has been saving money for a new car, so it is just Peeta and I making the trek to my hometown. He fills the silence with stories and little flirtations that ease my mind. I'm nervous about talking to Gale, and I'm even more nervous about how Gale will react when he sees that I've brought Peeta with me.

We stop by my house to drop off our bags and pick up Prim for the party. My mom is nowhere to be found, but Prim says that she intended to be at the party tonight to help Hazelle with the food. The party is being held at our friend Thresh's hunting camp site. It isn't far out of town, but enough so that we will be able to have loud music, food, and beer without bothering anyone.

I silently navigate the dirt roads, smiling as I remember doing the same thing back when I was in high school. I turn down a makeshift road that leads to the clearing where a small mobile home sits. We pull up behind the house, and I can see that they have strung lights and set up picnic tables in the clearing. Thresh and his sister, Rue, have gone to so much work, I feel a bit bad about only bringing a few coolers of beer.

The smell of burning brush and grass assaults me as I step out of the vehicle, and suddenly I'm ten years old again running to greet my dad. I'm overwhelmed and step backwards to brace myself against the car. The smell used to mean my dad and his bunk out gear had found their way home, it used to mean security and love, the type of warmth that comes from knowing that you are irrevocably important to someone. I used to love that smoky, ashy smell.

But, now I hate it.

I'm ready to go and the party hasn't even started. Peeta is oblivious as he grabs a cooler from the trunk and joins me around the front of the car. "Wow. It's really nice out here."

I hear him talking and just nod. _What else is there for me to do?_ Admitting that I miss my dad so much right now I can't breathe, will just freak him out. He wouldn't understand how powerful the smell of brushfire is to a fire fighter's kid. He doesn't know that smell should mean that there is bunk out gear sitting by the front door.

I see Gale and Madge approaching us. His eyes are narrowed and I realize he is giving Peeta the death stare. He starts walking faster than Madge, his purpose clear as he stomps towards Peeta. I should make some effort to deter him from whatever tirade, or fist, he is getting ready to throw, but I don't have to because the closer he gets the softer his face becomes.

Gale's attentions are no longer focused on Peeta, he is staring at me and before I know it he is enveloping me in a hug and whispering in my ear, "It's either the smell of the bonfire or the blonde douche bag has struck again. Just say the word and I'll take care of whichever one it is."

"It's still unsettling, even after all these years, that they'll never come home, you know?" I murmur into his chest and his grip around me tightens.

He releases me and stares directly into my face, "I know Catnip, I know. Want me to have them put it out?" The request is sweet, but unnecessary. I wasn't expecting the bonfire, and now that I've gotten used to it my emotions have settled.

"Of course not, where else would we make s'mores? Can we talk for a bit?" I smile at him, trying to relay that I'm okay, but knowing Gale I'll have to reassure him several more times before he believes me.

"Sure." Gale wrinkles his nose and frowns at me, "Peeta being a fuck up again?"

I roll my eyes in response and turn to where Peeta and Madge stand watching, obviously perplexed as to what is going on between Gale and I. "Peeta would you mind unloading the coolers with the beer? I want to catch up with Gale real quick." He smiles at me knowingly and nods his head in assent, before turning to Madge and saying something that makes her smile in our direction.

"Madge told me you agreed to be my best man, Catnip. I can't imagine having anyone else beside me." Gale's admission makes me feel warm and fuzzy; it's good to have my best friend back. "Did you like what she picked out? It will match me and the guys, not to mention it seemed more like you than the fussy dresses her attendants and Posy are wearing."

"I like it. Your mom agreed to tailor it for me, so you better watch out I'll probably outshine you, Hawthorne." I slap him on the arm and he rolls his eyes at me, before he can retort, I unload the apology that I should have given him two years ago. "She also told me about, well, about how you used to feel, and I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for never acknowledging it and for being a selfish bitch, you know?"

Gale shoves his hands in his pockets, "Ah shit, Catnip. It seemed like a big deal at the time, but I overreacted pushing you away like that. I appreciate the apology, but it all worked out for the best." He is talking to me, but he is staring at the two blondes, our two blondes, arranging dishes on the food table. "She's it for me, but I don't know why you brought him after what he has put you through. I mean Madge explained a bit, I still think you're letting him off too easy."

This is my best friend, this is the Gale I know, I'm relieved and realize that with him beginning this new chapter in his life we can comfortably put to bed the crazy awkwardness of the last two years and move on. "Be nice to him, Hawthorne. There is something about him that gets to me."

Gale looks at me surprised, "Really? Huh, well I'll be damned. I'll be nice to him tonight, but if he makes you cry again, I'll make him cry." Then he pokes me hard in the ribs and teases in a breathy voice, an attempt to mimic mine, "Something about him just gets to me." He flutters his eyelashes and purses his lips, and I know that my best friend is back to stay. I punch him in the arm for good measure before having him help me unload the rest of the ice chests.

* * *

The party is progressing nicely. We have all been milling around drinking and eating the ridiculous spread of food that my mom, Posy, Prim, Hazelle, and Rue have prepared. Peeta seems to be fitting in nicely with my friends and has been moving around without me, making small talk and engaging with people. It's nice in a way because I figured he would be glued to my side all night, but he seems to be doing pretty good making friends without me.

A group of people have taken to dancing, and Hazelle and I are catching up and discussing when I'll have time for her to hem up the suit I'm wearing in the wedding when a commotion on the dance floor catches our attention.

"Wait!" Gale yells suddenly when a new song starts, "Pause this song please, I have to make a speech."

Someone hits the pause button on the iPod dock, and we all gather around Gale, his eyes have softened from their usual appearance, and they crinkle lightly as he pulls Madge tightly to his side.

"In fourteen days, this wonderful woman beside me has agreed to become my wife." Madge is staring up at him with evident adoration, Gale continues, "I still don't know how this happened, how I got to be so lucky to win her heart, but I have and I cannot wait to make her officially mine forever."

They are facing one another now, the crowd has been forgotten even though Gale continues to speak loud enough that he is addressing the group, "We were dancing to this song here, when I realized I couldn't go on without her, when I realized that I better get a ring on her finger, because my heart was already hers eternally." Madge wraps her arms tightly around him and they begin to kiss, everyone else turns away allowing them to enjoy their moment. Not me though, I can't I'm rendered completely speechless, and I'm not even embarrassed of the tears slowly dripping from my eyes.

My emotions get the best of me as memories from our childhood flood over, I am so incredibly happy for Gale in this moment, for the first time in my life I am crying tears of joy, and it is a good feeling.

He deserves this, and it is evident that Madge adores him entirely. There is nothing more that I could wish for my best friend. Someone cues the iPod back up, and I watch as they begin to sway to the music. A big goofy grin overwhelms Gale's face, he plants his forehead to Madge's, and his mouth starts moving with the song as he leads her on the make shift dance floor.

I've known Gale my entire life, he cannot carry a tune to save his life, and here he is shamelessly serenading Madge who is beaming back at him like it is the most wonderful thing she has ever heard. I'm reminded of the times my dad would come up behind my mom while she was cooking, snaking his arms around her waist, he would place his head on her shoulder and sing to her.

It's been so long since I've seen what love looks like, and it looks wonderful. I _think_ I want this for myself, and I _think_ that I know it is entirely possible. Maybe it is just the slight buzz that I have going on, but in this moment I really believe that I want to share something, like what Gale and Madge have, with Peeta.

My eyes scan the crowd for Peeta. He is talking with my sister and mom at the coolers, nursing a beer and listening intently to every word Prim is saying, even though his eyes are on me. He cocks his head and gives me a little frown before dropping his beer in a trash can and turning to my mom and Prim to excuse himself.

"Dance with me?" Peeta postures as he approaches me, slipping his arm around my waist before I even accept.

I drop my head to his chest. The warmth of his skin radiates through the thin cotton shirt he is wearing, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chin as I tuck my head directly under his neck. With our arms wrapped around one another, we rock slowly to the rhythm of the song. _You are all that I need. _The song is meaningful, the chorus about someone with blue eyes being all that the singer needs. It resonates with me. We move wordlessly, and my heart and mind are full.

_Cause blue eyes, you are the sweet to my mean. _I raise my head and tilt it back, my eyes connect with Peeta's. He smiles at me and it is nothing, if not endearing. Peeta is the balance I need, the steady to my sometimes volatile nature. He makes me better. As I listen to the words of the song and gaze into Peeta's eyes, I realize how badly I want it to be true for us. I want to be deserving of him, I want his heart, and I want to be better for him. _I just want to be the one that's true. _Somewhere between breaking my toes, finding out about his past, and the rules that he has made us follow I have started to fall for him. I am coming to love Peeta, need him in many regards.

This wasn't supposed to happen, ever. Loving someone means losing someone, and while I am happy for Gale, he knows fully of the risk he took letting Madge in, and Gale has always been the braver of the two of us. Just because I'm pretty sure that I have fallen for Peeta, doesn't mean that I am right for him, or that us being together is a good thing for either one of us.

The song wraps up and Peeta kisses me softly on the mouth, "You okay? Being here make you think of your dad too much?"

"I'm fine. Just so happy for Gale and Madge… and you're right, I do miss that our dads aren't here to see it." Peeta pulls me tighter to him.

"It seems silly to ask, but is there anything I can do?" He presses another kiss to my forehead and squeezes me.

There are so many things that I could and should say right now. I need to admit what I'm feeling, it's something that we need to discuss before we spend much more time together, but I'm a coward. "Grab me another beer, will you?"

* * *

We've made it back to my house with the assistance of my little sister. I'm pretty wasted, and I'm positive that Peeta isn't one hundred percent sober either. I'm in a wobbly daze and his lips are attacking mine, pushing me backwards until my back bumps up against a wall, my bedroom wall, _I think_. This does not deter him and he continues working my mouth over with his, I'm too drunk to really feel the kisses that he is roughly pressing into me and it bums me out a bit because Peeta is a glorious kisser. I bet this would be a hot make out session if my nervous system could register it.

All of our clothes are on, but I have noticed that his cock thrusting into me through his jeans. I'm just enough shorter than him that if my belly button was deeper, he would be having sex with it. The thought makes me giggle, and Peeta pulls away from me with a look on his face that I don't even try to figure out, because I'm tired of trying to discern what Peeta is thinking.

Admittedly, there is enough alcohol coursing through my veins, and my lips are so numb that kissing is doing nothing for me, there is something that I want to do though, something I've been waiting weeks for.

I push against his chest and open up space between the two of us before dropping to my knees in front of him. When I get on the floor I realize how incredibly dizzy I am, and have to brace myself on his knees before looking up at him, "I want you to fuck my mouth." I get the words out, and I think that I made the proposition sound pretty sexy despite the fact that the world is tilted on its axis and everything appears slanted.

"Katniss!" Peeta is staring at me, _how is it that I am constantly shocking him?_ He should know me by now. I fumble around with the fasten on his pants, cursing the day they were made and whoever thought them up, before wrestling them down his hips, "Shhhh, be quiet we don't want to wake your mom."

"Remember that because in about two minutes you'll be the one trying to keep quiet." That was pretty smooth on my part and I giggle to myself again, I'm a riot tonight. Despite being drunk, Peeta is already hard and I take him in my hand and lick his tip before wrapping my entire mouth around him. He gasps a little, and I need a fucking drink of water or something because my mouth is dry and sticky with thirst. I find myself having a hard time doing anything resembling oral sex because I keep having to stop so I can try to get myself to salivate.

He's finally letting go of the rules and letting me take the reins, I'm not wasting this, _cotton mouth be damned._

* * *

**A/N: There is a companion outtake in Peeta's POV that goes with this chapter and it can be found in 'The Rules: First Speech Outtake', it is chapter two.**

**The song referenced is "Blue Eyes" by the Cary Brothers and it is quite lovely, definitely worth the listen!**

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I appreciate it! Also, a big thank you to my beta, Wildharp, for all his hard work!**

***You can find me on tumblr and Ao3 with the same username, kismet4891***


	15. Chapter 15

Water.

I need water in the most desperate way.

My mouth is parched, and even my eyeballs are lacking moisture, every pass of my eyelids over them feels like sandpaper tearing into the delicate tissue. I push myself up and immediately regret the decision, because my stomach lurches and my head feels like it is about to split open. Gingerly, I allow my head to fall back into the pillow face first and just exist for a while.

Despite letting Peeta know yesterday, that it was okay for him to stay with me, I am in bed alone.

The rolling motion it takes to propel me to my side does nothing to help my queasy stomach, and I'm rewarded with a bedside clock blinking midnight over and over again. There is enough light slipping through the curtains that I notice that someone, presumably Peeta, left two bottles of water and two little white pills on the bed stand. My body protests as I reach for the water, I hurt all over.

It dawns on me how bad my decision making was last night. There is a foul taste in my mouth, absolutely terrible, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I spent some time throwing up last night and will be again shortly.

Sometime between stationing myself in front of the toilet and crawling back into my bedroom, Peeta appears with the water and pills from the bedside. It's still early enough in the morning that we tuck back into the twin size bed and sleep for a few hours more.

This time when I wake, I feel a bit better, not fantastic, but a lot better than I did hours ago. I can sit up without the violent throbbing in my head forcing me back down, and I'm increasingly more confident in my stomach's ability to hold breakfast.

Peeta is wrapped almost entirely around me, his morning wood presses into my back and his breath is hot against my neck. Despite the less than stellar circumstances that led to this, I could get used to waking up wrapped up in him. I twist around in his arms and regard his sleeping face. Peeta's blonde eyelashes are deceptive. The view close up allows me to see that they are long, thick and quite lovely as they fan out around his eyes, framing them. They are lighter than the blonde hair on his head, so from further away they appear almost nonexistent.

I got drunk so I wouldn't have to deal with the things that I was feeling last night, but the tightness in my chest and clenching feeling around my heart while I am with Peeta, clue me in to the fact that nothing has changed. I still want him to be mine exclusively, I still feel more for him than I have for anyone else before, and I have still fallen in love with him.

The 'can I be your girlfriend' talk I can handle, however the 'I love you' discussion is one that I don't plan on having with him anytime soon. There are more important things to worry about today anyway, in a few hours I will get to meet Bubby, this is a huge step and I realize it. Meeting Bubby definitely means that whatever Peeta and I have going on is significant for him too, it's just a matter of figuring out how significant.

I trace my finger down the curve of Peeta's nose, he stirs slightly and his eyelids flutter open revealing his startling blue eyes. "Morning." He sounds raspy, his voice heavy with sleep, "how's the hangover?"

Peeta's body tightens as he stretches his limbs and yawns, his hand comes to rest high on my back, and he weaves his fingers through my hair and starts working out the tangles there. "Pretty terrible, but that right there helps alleviate the pressure in my skull." Every time he pulls on the strands of my hair to work on a knot, the resulting tug against my scalp is wonderful. "Don't stop, okay?"

Peeta complies with a gentle pull and a kiss to the top of my head, "I had a lot of fun last night, even with the awkward dad speech from Gale. Thanks for inviting me." I had seen the two of them talking, it doesn't surprise me that Gale pulled the protector card with Peeta, in fact it makes me smile a bit. He continues working on my ratty hair, and I continue just enjoying the sensations radiating from my scalp. I feel warm all over. I could get used to mornings like these, just without the hangover.

I also feel kind of sore between my legs, my guess is that we fooled around a little bit. "Well, I'm pretty sure I had a good time too, but I'd be lying if I said that I can recall all of last night." Peeta's chest rumbles a bit, my admission garners a soft chuckle from him. I want to ask him what happened between us, the fact that I'm tender doesn't surprise me, but it isn't the type of tender that accompanies having sex after a significant dry spell. It's probably from being desensitized from all the alcohol and getting rough with myself, or encouraging Peeta to rub harder as a means of getting my numb body to feel something.

"You had a pretty one track mind last night, not that I'm complaining." He's right, I do remember being especially fixated on getting to go down on him. My face flushes as I remember some of the things I whispered to him while there were people present. I'm also remembering snippets of me on my knees in front of him, but possibly having an extreme case of desert mouth.

"Care to fill in the blanks?" With my hand I'm tracing circles on Peeta's abdomen, which is taut and hard underneath my fingertips. I slide my hand underneath the hem of his shirt and start writing my name over and over on his skin.

Peeta shifts and I can feel him raise his head from the pillow, I turn to meet his eyes, but continue with the invisible branding I am submitting him too, "Katniss, you mean to tell me you don't remember the ill fated attempt at oral sex, or fingering yourself and having me lick your finger clean?" His smile is so wide I could probably count all of his teeth if I wanted to.

My eyes close and I pull in a deep breath before opening them again, "I remember the cotton mouth, but I don't remember the finger thing. I'm sorry Peeta, that was probably a bit much." I drop my head to his chest and shake my head a bit.

"No apologies necessary. The finger thing was hot, and you made up for the blow job with your wet dry humping game, which was _really _hot." He tugs on my hair, hard enough to cause me to look up at him and the slight jolt of pain mixed with the look in his eyes when I meet them are enough to make me wonder how many pairs of underwear I packed. "We need to try that again _sober_, although it was really hard not to just slide into you when you were moving over me like that."

"Wet dry humping?" I'm pretty sure I know what Peeta's talking about, but have never heard it called that, "You mean we played 'slip and slide'?" That would explain why I'm sore. I'm pretty upset I don't remember this.

Peeta is laughing again, "Yeah, the 'slip and slide' was pretty fun and all. I'm sorry you don't remember, and please know that if I realized that you were so drunk you wouldn't remember it, I would have tucked you into bed and not went through with it."

"Tell me this, did I come?"

The laughter stops, "Well, I kinda came pretty quick, and you slumped over and rubbed one out like a champ, and then we, eh, uh…well we talked a bit, and then you started throwing up." Peeta seems a bit uncertain while telling me this. Knowing him, he is still worried about the fact I don't remember anything and he feels like he took advantage of the situation. He didn't. Even drunk I know that with him I was a very eager participant, I can still feel the proof between my legs.

I say what I can to try and make light of the situation, "Well at least I got to come from it all. I'll have to remember to treat myself a bit gentler next time." I'm just glad that my drunken emotional state last night was horny, and I was completely cock focused. It would have been a very interesting morning if I had been sappy or expressive to what I was feeling for him after my revelation.

It takes everything I have to not actually breathe a sigh of relief, instead I focus my new found emotional clarity into a much safer way of expression. My hand is still resting on Peeta's stomach, so I trace my name once more before outlining the three words I doubt I'll be brave enough to admit to him anytime soon.

_I love you._

* * *

_2005: 16 years & 18 years old..._

Soft green light bathed the room, gently reflecting in the gangly teen's mop of wheat colored curls, accentuating the white blonde highlights leftover from childhood, making him seem a lot younger than his sixteen years. Most days the boy felt much older than his actual age. His mother, one of the people who should have been trying her hardest to protect his childhood, robbed him of the joys of being a kid. Here though, in the confines of his brother's hospital room, locked in sleep's warm embrace and surrounded by the whirr and buzz of life sustaining equipment, he appeared a child.

Mr. Mellark entered the room, his youngest had his chair pulled right up to his middle son's bed. Peeta's body was contorted uncomfortably in the chair so that his head rested on the bed and his hand tangled with his brother's. Both boys were sleeping, Bubby's head wedged between tubes and wires on the pillow while Peeta's head lay directly on the bed, resting atop a book he had been presumably reading before he fell asleep.

"Peeta, son, it's almost ten, time to go," Mr. Mellark placed a hand on Peeta's shoulder and squeezed, "visiting hours are almost over." Since his older brother had taken ill with a dangerous infection that had settled in his body, Peeta spent every free hour he had at the hospital. At first, his father had tried to deter him, but Peeta was insistent on spending as much time with Bubby as he could.

Peeta lifted his head from where it lay on the book that he was reading and his father took notice of the title, "What's this you're reading?" The book was unfamiliar to Mr. Mellark, and appeared to be some sort of technical manual.

"It's a workbook for the certified nurse assistant program affiliated with the hospital." His answer was nonchalant, as if he discussed things of this matter with his dad every day.

Mr. Mellark smoothed the hair on Bubby's forehead, reaching out and taking his sons hand in his own before responding to Peeta, "Now why on earth, would you need that?"

"Well, I want to be a nurse when I get out of high school, and there is a program at the technical school that will let me get credit for high school and training so that when I turn eighteen I can test to get my nurse assistant certification. That'll give me an advantage at a degree nursing program, and I'll be able to work and help take care of Bubby while I go to college."

This was the first his dad had heard of any of this, he worried that Peeta was making a rash decision committing himself at such a young age to a profession he knew little about, "Bubby will be fine, Peet. No sense making big decisions like this now, you are only sixteen. Why when I was your age what I wanted to be changed every day, besides if you want to work in medicine, wouldn't you rather be a doctor?"

His father's statement made Peeta roll his eyes. He wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but did his dad really not see the bigger picture here? Bubby would need someone to care for him when he overcame this latest obstacle- there was not a question of _if_, it was _when_. Peeta was a smart boy, he knew that his dad was exhausted and financially spent, and with Bubby recently turning eighteen they had to reapply for Medicaid and nothing about that process was easy or reassuring.

His father acted like Bubby would someday be able to take care of himself, which he wouldn't.

As for the comment about becoming a doctor, Peeta didn't say it, because he felt like it went without saying that being a doctor was overrated. From his vast experience the past few years, in and out of his Bubby's hospital rooms, the nurses were the real heroes. They were the ones who really knew and understood their patients. If his dad were to really pay attention- wasn't that the real problem here, Mr. Mellark's lack of attentiveness- he would realize that the nurses were the ones monitoring Bubby, checking in with him, watching for new symptoms, delivering medications.

They only saw the doctor during rounds or if there was a problem, therefore Peeta had come to hate seeing the doctor.

Nurses, on the other hand, were there at all hours of the day. Nurses were the ones that knew what a good day looked like for his Bubby, and how to ease the discomfort of a bad day. Nurses knew what Peeta's name was and what year he was in at school, and knew that Bubby wouldn't eat applesauce but would devour an entire dish of peach jello.

Yes, in Peeta's mind the nurses were the unsung heroes that inspired him and helped him find courage on the bleakest of days. He wanted to be one of them. Peeta may have had selfish reasons, like being able to care for Bubby on his own, but he also wanted to serve and make a difference.

Becoming a nurse was the obvious choice, and a path he was eager to pursue.

* * *

The hour drive back home passed quickly, with lots of good natured teasing from Peeta about things that I supposedly did the previous night. Some of which, Peeta admitted were true, like eating half of one of Hazelle's famous caramel apple pies, serenading the audience, and giving Peeta an over the pants handy with Prim in the car. While others were simply fabricated by him. He actually tried to convince me that I went sans pants for the last half of the night, that I toasted Gale and Madge in pig Latin, and offered to dance on a table for singles.

The effects of my hangover are lingering, but ultimately I feel pretty damn good and am very happy to be meeting the rest of the Mellark brothers soon. We picked up Harper, because Peeta said that Bubby would be disappointed if we didn't, and landed back at his house thirty minutes before the big meeting.

We were having a good time until we got to Peeta's house, I know he is nervous about me meeting his family, but he is being a bit irritating with all of his preparations.

"Okay, and remember to talk slowly so he can process it, but not so much that he knows what you are doing because that makes him feel singled out." Peeta is making sandwiches for us, and it is a good thing he isn't facing me because I'm sure my face would belie how I feel about him lecturing me.

"Got it." I know Peeta is stressed, so I just go along with what he is telling me, even though he is pretty much on repeat now.

"And, I know that he is sometimes hard to understand, and if you don't know what he is saying you can ask him to repeat, but not too much. I mean, I guess just look at me and maybe I'll repeat it in a way that doesn't let on that you didn't get it, okay?" I'm irritated. I'm not sure if Peeta thinks I'm a complete insensitive oaf, or if his nerves are just manifesting this way.

In the back of my mind there is a little voice sreaming that there is also the possibility that this is a step he just isn't quite ready for. I can respect that and try to keep my irritation at a bay.

I stand and wrap my arms around Peeta, resting my head in the spot between his shoulder blades, "It's going to be fine, Peeta, despite what you think I'm quite likeable, and your brother sounds great. I'll be respectful of his differences without making it obvious, okay? I know it's asking a lot for you to trust me with meeting him, if you aren't ready for it, I can leave now."

The tension leaves Peeta's shoulders as he exhales deeply, "I don't want you to leave. I want you to meet him, sorry for being so thorough I just want you to be prepared."

"I appreciate it, Peeta. Some of Bubby's challenges sound profound and I'm glad to be prepared, but if I'm going to meet him you have to know that I would never be anything other than respectful towards him. You know that, right?"

Peeta turns around and rests his hands on my shoulders, looking me square in the eye. "Oh God, of course Katniss, I didn't mean for it to come off that I didn't. Forgive me?" His forehead wrinkles and he appears concerned.

I rock up on my feet and wrap my arms around his neck as I pull him in for a kiss to show him that all is forgiven. I am pleasantly surprised when Peeta deepens the kiss, tugging on my top lip with his before sliding his tongue into my mouth. His hands shift from their position on my shoulders to slide into the hair behind my ears, cradling my head. The kiss unfurls tendrils of desire straight from my mouth, shooting down my back to ignite a small inferno in between my legs. I rest my full weight against him pressing him into the counter, trying to ensure that every inch on my body is pressed up against some part of him.

"Geez, Peet!" A voice, that has to be Bubby's because the speech stretches slowly and is a bit difficult to discern, causes us to break apart, "get a room or something, I was hungry until I walked in and saw that."

My face is flushed and I'm sure that Peeta's matches mine, but when I look up at him the smile stretching across his face is bright enough to illuminate the room. I look to the doorway and offer a small wave to the Mellark brothers who apparently snuck in on us while we were kissing in the kitchen.

"Get a room?" Peeta questions in a feigned perplexed voice, "Bubs, this is my house I'll smooch in every room, yours included if I want." He links his fingers with mine and tugs me over to where Bubby's chair and his other older brother are standing. Hemingway, who I've never seen not in a state of hyper arousal, is sitting on Bubby's lap, markedly calmer than I thought he was capable of. "Guys, meet Katniss Everdeen."

Bubby extends a hand, and I drop Peeta's hand and grasp his brother's, "Why Katniss, what is a beautiful girl like you doing letting my dorky baby brother kiss you like that?" His fingers curl lightly around mine and his speech is slightly slurred, my name sounds more like 'Ka-Hiss' rolling off his tongue, "especially when there are older, better looking Mellark's?" His eyes dance at his own joke and I laugh, his joy is absolutely infectious, Bubby is pleased with himself and his brothers roll their eyes like they are used to his antics.

"First things first, where is Harper, and Power Rangers or Ninja Turtles?" Bubby asks and I'm pretty sure I heard him right, but have no clue what he is asking in the second part of his question. I intentionally furrow my eyebrows and make eye contact with Peeta. "Harper is sleeping on Peeta's couch, even though your grumpy pants brother said no dogs on the couch."

"On Saturday afternoons we watch old superhero movies from when we were younger, Bubby is letting you choose TMNT or Power Rangers." Peeta clarifies while taking a small bag from his other brother who is on his way out. "Bubs, are you hungry? I was just making lunch for Katniss and I."

"Nah, just wheel me in Harper's direction. Whaddya decide?" Bubby smiles at me, his eyes crease into tiny slits and his mouth is lopsided. He and his obvious joy are perfect. I can see why his baby brother is so protective of him.

The smile I return matches the fervor of his, "Easy. Ninja Turtles."

"Right? Baby Bro over there would have picked Power Rangers, but you know your stuff Katniss." Peeta settles Bubby into a large, oversized recliner beside the couch, while I dig out a bright green DVD case from the shelf beside the television and cue up the movie. Harper sidles up beside Bubby, resting his head in Bubby's lap like it is too heavy for him to hold up on his own. "Oh my God, this is the best dog. I love labs."

I can't help but agree with Bubby, but Peeta looks a bit put out and picks up Hemingway and puts him on Bubby's lap. "Don't forget who was here first."

Bubby grins again, "Katniss, what are you doing with this joker? You need to dump your boyfriend here and pick his brother."

I grin and internally thank Bubby for bringing up the word 'boyfriend'. I can use this as a chance to figure out exactly where I stand with Peeta. Maybe we can define the relationship without having to have the uncomfortable conversation that goes along with it.

"If you can believe it, Peeta's never asked me to be his girlfriend, so technically I'm a free agent."

Bubby raises his hand from Harper's head and pulls it to his heart, acting like he hurts, "Baby Bro, you are killing me here. You need to get this girl on lock down before I do."

"I can't believe you two!" Peeta scoffs, but has a hard time not laughing, "Katniss you get in this kitchen and eat with me, I don't trust you two alone."

"Yeah, you shouldn't trust us…"

Bubby tosses out a playful warning as I trail Peeta into the kitchen where he wraps his arms around me and kisses me soundly on the mouth. "I didn't realize I needed to make a formal request, this doesn't mean you are playing slip and slide with anyone else, does it?" He presses his forehead up against mine.

I lean up and nip at his nose, "Well, there have been offers, my skills, like wet dry humping and over the pants hand jobs are highly sought after. I mean a girl does like to know when she is important, and I would hate to just assume I was your girlfriend."

"You are important to me." A look I can't discern crosses Peeta's features, and I can't decide if it is pensive or sullen, it passes quickly, "Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" He bites his bottom lip as he asks this and the moment is sweet, and a little bit awkward. I pull him to me, melding our lips together as Peeta grasps my hips and drags me closer to him, "I take it that's a yes."

"That's a yes, for sure."

* * *

The rest of the day passes in a blur of good natured ribbing between brothers. I find myself really enjoying time with the two of them, and any of my fears about where I stand with Peeta have been erased since our little discussion in the kitchen earlier. Bubby's jokes eventually become fewer and further between, and his eyes started drooping while we finish our game of Pop It.

"Well boys, it's been fun, but I had best get Harper home and tucked into bed. Thanks for letting me intrude on boy's night." I stand to excuse myself, wanting to let Peeta and Bubby have some time together before it is time for him to go to bed. I rest my hand on Bubby's shoulder and squeeze, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Bubby. I look forward to getting to see you again."

"Pleasure is all mine, Katniss." The more tired he becomes the harder he is to understand, but I got the gist of what he said. I surprise myself, and possibly Peeta, when I lean over and give Bubby a hug goodnight. "You sure Harper and I can't have a sleep over, you can sleep over too. I won't tell my dad." He jokes and I know that he is actually probably serious about Harper staying. The big old dog is parked beside Bubby's chair and has been all night.

I walk over to give Peeta a hug goodbye, "Actually, Katniss there was something I wanted to talk to you about, would you mind hanging out while I help Bubs get ready for bed?" He asks and I'm a bit surprised because we have been together well over 24 hours by now, I'm sure he is ready to have some space for a bit. I'm also surprised that Bubby doesn't have any commentary to go along with Peeta's request, until I realize that he is having a very hard time just staying awake. Peeta notices me noticing Bubby's fatigue, "One of his medicines wipes him out within thirty minutes of taking it and I think we are pushing forty since I administered it. I'll be lucky to get his teeth brushed at this point."

Peeta doesn't take long before rejoining me in the living room. I'm not sure what he is wanting to talk about, but I'm not worried since we had our define the relationship moment earlier. I have a suspicion that he may just want to make out a bit, perhaps even fool around. I don't have a problem with that.

"Let's go back to my room." Yeah, he totally wants to fool around, I'm a bit tired, but down for getting to see Peeta naked.

He sits on the bed and I spread his knees and wedge myself in between his legs, then lean in to kiss him. Peeta kisses me back and pulls me tight to him as I slide my hands down the neck of his shirt while I work my way from his mouth to his neck nibbling a path to his ear lobe.

He groans in response, "I think we should talk about something you said last night before we get distracted." I straddle his lap and suck his ear lobe into my mouth, and Peeta grasps my ass and starts pulling it against him.

I don't even bother pulling my face away from Peeta's neck before I answer, "Oh, I can only imagine the things that came out of my mouth if I did the thing with the finger you mentioned earlier." I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or proud of the fact I had made Peeta lick my finger clean, he didn't seem upset by it. "Can we not, and say we did?"

"Katniss, we really need to talk about it." His head is thrown back and he is breathing heavily as his hands knead the flesh of my ass, helping me grind deeper into his lap.

"Okay, okay, you talk. I promise I'm listening."

Peeta removes his hands from my ass and presses them to my shoulders, effectively separating me from his neck, "You said, and this is a direct quote, 'I don't think we should have sex until you love me too,' and then you started getting sick so we didn't talk about it any further."

My stomach rolls at the implications of what I supposedly admitted to Peeta, suddenly I can't get far enough away from him. I stand up immediately, defenses up, "What?" I can't believe I said that, at first I hope this is a little more of that real or not real game from the car earlier. "What did I really say?"

"Exactly what I said Katniss."

"What did you say when I said _that_?" Blood is thrumming loudly in my ears. Peeta just sits there. His silence is telling, he doesn't feel the same way.

I'm sick to my stomach with shame. I do the one thing I do best and pull out the angry sarcasm. "Well you and I didn't fuck, did we? Apparently that trick doesn't work as well as I thought it would." My voice is slightly raised, but not so loud that Bubby will be disturbed. It is hard to keep it low.

"Don't do this. Don't push me away and make a joke out of it." Peeta's response is laughable, how dare he tell me what I can and cannot do. "Are you saying that you didn't mean it?"

I meant it. I'm such a fucking idiot, what was I thinking trying to drink my problems away.

"Of course I didn't mean it, I was drunk Peeta and trying to get you to sleep with me. Like you never pulled that trick back in high school."

I did mean it, I meant it very much, but Peeta hasn't said anything about how he feels except his admission that I was important to him hours earlier. Suddenly, the joy I felt over the silly moment when he asked me to be his girlfriend seems ridiculous. He was just placating me, he knew this was coming.

I feel like fool. I just want to curl up in bed and not get out for a week.

"Now I know you're just bull shitting me Katniss, you're a terrible liar, you know?" He just keeps prodding.

I don't know what he wants me to say. _Yes, Peeta I admitted that I loved you, and you said nothing in return. Now, you have brought it up and continue to say nothing in return. Your silence is telling, but you want me to do the talking._

This hurts. It feels like my lungs are imploding like a fresh water fish in a salt water tank. I can barely breathe, I want to curl into a ball and sleep for a week. This is why loving someone is a terrible idea, because no matter who you think they are, they will always disappoint you.

Peeta's intense blue eyes bore into me, pushing me to own up to what I said while wasted,"So, yeah I fucking said it Peeta. Is that what you want to hear? Because all I'm hearing are fucking crickets chirping, forgive me for not wanting to own up to being a complete jackass and admitting my feelings to someone who doesn't reciprocate." My vision is blurred with tears and I'm hiccupping with the ugly sobs bubbling out of my chest.

"Katniss, it's not like that, please don't cry, I don't want to upset you."

"Then what is it like, Peeta. Tell me, because I know you've been in love before…you admitted it when you made the rules." My words are stuttering out of me, almost unintelligibly, "Why am I not good enough to deserve you too?"

"That's the thing Katniss," he drops his eyes and reaches for my hands which I rip away and clutch to my chest in a futile attempt to assuage the pain I am feeling, "It has nothing to do with you. The other girl I was in love with was different because I was in control of that situation. I decided to love her and then decided to end it."

He isn't making any sense at this point, from what I am now understanding about falling in love is that no one has control over anything, I didn't want to love him, but I do.

Peeta continues, "I'm not in control of this, I didn't expect it or you, and things are happening so quickly and I can't lose control." He continues to stare at his hands as he admits this. "I didn't know _this_ was a possibility."

And, this is when I realize that Peeta may have more baggage than I previously realized.

All this time I thought he was the brave one.

* * *

**A/N: There is not an accompanying outtake for this, although I am considering it and will decide whether or not to write one based on you guys feedback and reactions to the story. **

**Warning! Shameless self promotion...I did post a new one shot called 'Color of Attraction' and would love it if everyone would check it out.**

**Thank you to the great and wonderful, Wildharp! The best beta a girl could hope for!**

**Oh, and I also posted a fun, short outtake on my tumblr awhile back exploring Movember and Peeta's attempt at participation that utilized these characters, check my profile for details how to find me on tumblr. **


	16. Chapter 16

_**Within the next few days, there will be an outtake posted covering important parts of Ch. 15 and the events below in Peeta's POV on The Rules: First Speech Outtakes...Only two (possibly three) more chapters to go…**_

* * *

His words cut deep. 'I didn't know this was possible' implies that he never expected anything serious from me. Possibly he just thinks I am incapable of love, which honestly I would have thought too. It's the fact that he used me as a means of passing time, all the while telling me we should take it slow, creating rules for us to follow, but never cluing me into this fact, that really burns.

"_Excuse me?_ What the hell are you even talking about Peeta? All this talk about control, you deciding to be in love, and not knowing that I was falling for you. I call bullshit." I'm so angry I can feel my nostrils flare and my eyebrows furrow.

"Well, maybe I wasn't in love with her, but I loved her, you know?" I don't know. To me, there seems to be a disconnect in what he is saying. It sounds more like he had this girl who he loved like a friend, and made himself try to feel more for. He continues, even though I'm positive I don't want to hear what he has to say, "I just wanted someone, and she was there. I cared about her deeply and wanted to make a future with her, so we tried, I tried. It wasn't there for me though, and I could see it was there for her. I backed away."

I don't think Peeta truly understands what loving someone is, and it is pretty sad that I can fathom it before he does. What I feel for him is all consuming, it drives me crazy and it makes me whole. I need him.

"I hurt her and I missed her, but it was easier that way instead of waiting for her to realize and leave me. I knew it was coming. I initiated it, no surprises. I protect myself, Katniss." I protect myself too, but I realize now that when this ends I won't be able to simply _will_ my feelings for Peeta away. It's going to take a long time to get over him, and I doubt I'll ever be the same.

The parallels between Peeta's last relationship and ours are profound. This is what he does, he creates rules and circumstances. I fell for him hard, and it doesn't sound like I'm the first one. It all sounds so calculated and cruel coming from his mouth. I'm not sure what hurts more, the fact that I bought it or that the girl before me at least got to hear 'I love you'.

There are so many things I want to say to Peeta about how unfair this is, how wrong it is to manipulate situations and people, to demand control but most of what falls from my lips is incoherent angry ranting.

"You asshole, you fucking asshole, making me love you and letting me meet your brother before shaming me this way." The angry bluster of words spews from my mouth, my cheeks feel hot and I'm surprised the salty water falling from my eyes doesn't sizzle when it hits my skin, "What about taking it slow so that I'll know what it feels like to have sex when in love? Huh, what about telling me you couldn't go anywhere if you tried because we were in so deep? Is it like a game, or are you really so clueless about how love works?"

Peeta's game is cruel. It's one thing to sleep around, and an entirely different thing to play with emotions. I would have preferred a one night stand with him than a month of this bullshit.

The tirade continues, but something else has Peeta's attention. I call him all the names I know, question his motives, and really just unload my rage. "Katniss, hush." Peeta brings a finger to his lips and his eyebrows scrunch up like he is listening. Then I hear it too, Bubby is awake and calling for him.

A long, mournful wail that breaks my heart, and softens the edge of the anger radiating from me, "He has nightmares sometimes, an unfortunate side effect from the medication and trauma he has been through." Peeta fills in the blanks, while letting himself out the bedroom door.

Bubby's cries have dwindled to soft whimpering, as I gather my things and try to locate Harper. I can hear Peeta talking to him in hushed tones, murmuring, comforting, and providing solace like I used to with Prim when she woke from a terrifying nightmare, or like my father did for me. Peeta and I have a lot to discuss, I'm not finished letting him know how I feel, and demanding answers.

Right now though is neither the time, nor the place, since his brother needs him. Bubby comes first, not only do I respect this, I expect it.

"Yeah, she's still here. It's not just Harper." Bubby must have asked about me, I now know where Harper is, he's with Bubby. I'm not sure how to proceed. This is not a good moment for me to interrupt. I can't bear the site of Peeta right now, not after he's put my heart through the ringer. "Let me see, Bubs. I'll check, okay? No promises."

Peeta's head pokes out from the doorway, he looks exhausted, it has been a really long day. "Katniss?" I want to ask him how dare he say my name, or even look in my direction, I don't though, Bubby is within ear shot.

My eyes never rise to his, despite him coming to stand in front of me, "Harper can stay here tonight, if you don't mind another dog around. I've got a lot of thinking to do, and you've got your brother to take care of so I'm going to get out of here." By the time I get it all out there, Peeta is standing right in front of me. I'll miss having my big, furry snuggle buddy, especially tonight, when the ache in my chest is making me feel hurt and hollow all at once.

Peeta's lips curl slightly as he raises a hand to his chin, wiping at the skin there in a familiar gesture, "Actually, he's asking for you." I'm taken aback by Peeta's words and stand there unsure of what to say, the anger has been slowly seeping from body with each passing moment, being replaced by a profound fissure in my heart, and this certainly does not help.

"Um, no pressure though if it makes you feel uncomfortable I'll tell him you are in the bathroom or something." My hesitance must have come off as refusal. As infuriated as I am at Peeta right now, if Bubby is asking for me I need to see him. I need to prove to myself that I am capable of being there for someone, despite what I'm going through.

Peeta steps back into the room and I follow, I'm a little nervous and not sure what to expect. I've comforted Prim and even Posy after a nightmare, but they were much younger, and I had known them since they were itty bitty. Harper is stretched out alongside Bubby who is tucked underneath his comforter, "Hiya, Katniss. Harper is like the best."

"He is isn't he?" I sit down in a chair that is pulled up right next to Bubby's bed and place a hand on Harper's head, "Can you believe that someone was ever mean to this handsome boy?" I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing here, Bubby asked for me and I'm just going to treat this like a regular conversation.

"Whatcha mean?" I've caught Bubby's interest with this, he sounds tired, but has that look of someone that is afraid to go back to sleep.

"Well, my best friend and I were going fishing one day when I noticed this guy on the side of the road. He'd been shot and I couldn't leave him there, he kept asking me with his eyes to help him. So, Gale, that's my best friend, and I loaded him up and took him to the vet." I lean over and press a kiss to Harper's muzzle, "He's been by my side ever since and that was years ago, that is until you came along and stole his heart."

Bubby smiles at this, it's not the big lopsided one from earlier in the night, but it's there and it means he is starting to relax. "Why would anyone do that to a dog?"

"I don't know. It sucks to think about Harper and how bad he was hurting, but I don't let myself get sad about it. Instead I think maybe that is what was meant to happen so I could find him." I move my hand from Harper's head, reach over and give Bubby's fingers a squeeze.

Peeta steps up behind me and I'm afraid he is going to reach out and touch me, but he doesn't, "I've never heard that story before."

"It's a pretty good one." Bubby chimes in, "Katniss and I got this, you can go take a load off Peets. You need a break."

"Sure? I'm fine Bubs." There is hesitancy in Peeta's voice, I can tell it is hard for him to allow me to fill in with his brother.

"Go, I promise I won't steal your lady." The smile Bubby gives Peeta should convince him, because it's his full on smile, Peeta excuses himself and Bubby asks, "Katniss will you tell me a story? A real one like the one about Harper?"

He's put me on the spot, there isn't much about my past that is appropriate for a night time story. While I may not have been through the heavy physical trauma that he has, I lost my dad and all stories that are fun to tell revolve around him. "What if I don't have any more good ones?"

"Then tell me about how you met Peeta, I think I'd like to hear that."

I think back to the night I met Peeta, the night that changed my life, even though I had been so flippant at the time. I laugh a little to myself, "Hmmm. I knocked him over. It was a crowded night at a concert and I backed into him, knocking him to the ground. When I turned around I was going to apologize and then go on my way, but your brother insisted that I owed him a dance."

Bubby laughs a little when I pause, "Way to go, baby bro. He knows a pretty girl when he sees one, he got that from me."

"Well, I don't know about that, but I do know that he was persistent and tracked me down. Just between you and me, I'd hate for it to go to Peeta's head, but I thought his eyes were so perfectly blue that they were contacts. It made me nervous how cute I thought he was so I was kind of mean to him." Bubby doesn't have to know that I was a bitch to Peeta, and that we were both drinking. My story relays the situation in a much easier to swallow form.

"Did you dance with him?"

"Eventually I did, but at the end of the night I meant to give him a wrong number and accidentally gave him the right one." When I admit this, Bubby lets out a throaty laugh, "He text me that night, and we've been friends ever since."

"I think you didn't mess up the number for the same reason you found Harper, because it was 'posed to happen." He lightly squeezes my fingers when he says this, "You're good for him Katniss, you make him happy. I know you said he hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend, but I can tell he really likes you. Don't worry about the girlfriend thing, he's been through a lot, and sometimes it's hard for him to let people take care of him, okay?"

I have to listen very closely to make out what Bubby is saying, and when the reality of it hits me I have to fight to swallow tears back. Peeta really likes me, and that's all well and good except that I love him, and it isn't fair for either of us to have the gigantic mountain of relationship inequality staring at us in the face.

I'm not mad anymore, just incredibly sad that our timing and feelings couldn't be more in sync.

"Would you like to hear some stories about my best friend? He's like my brother, and I bet you can relate having such great brothers." Incredibly, my voice doesn't crack even though my heart continues to fracture.

* * *

Bubby drifted to sleep as I regale him with stories of the trouble Gale and I got ourselves into when we were younger. I pat Harpers head and stand, stretching the stiffness from my limbs. The night before is really kicking my ass now, not to mention the shit that I was going through with Peeta. Sitting in the chair all night was almost preferable to having to leave this room and face Peeta.

I know I have a lot of thinking to do, and I need to do it on my own. Now that the fog of anger has cleared, I'm still hurt and embarrassed, but I'm also thinking more rationally. I don't think Peeta's intention was ever to play me, I really just think he isn't there yet and his rules are more about him and his issues than me.

"I do." Peeta's voice startles me, low and raw, as I step through Bubby's bedroom door. "I do, too." He is slumped over against the wall, he has his knees pulled up with his elbows resting on them, "Katniss, I do."

He looks tired and he is mumbling, but I just want to go home. "Go to bed, Peeta. Bubby is back asleep, and Harper is in bed with him. You can either bring him by tomorrow or I'll come get him."

Peeta's hand wraps around my ankle and squeezes gently, "Stay with me tonight, please?" Instead of the warmth that typically follows Peeta's touch, I feel cold.

It's a bit unbelievable that he's asking me to stay, after everything we have discussed tonight and me admitting without really saying it that I love him. He doesn't love me though, and I don't know where this leaves us. I look at him, really look at him and realize that he looks as broken as I feel, and even though I want to tell him to fuck off, I can't. "We'll talk about it tomorrow Peeta, but you have got to respect that I am embarrassed, and hurt, and really fucking confused right now, okay? I need some space."

"I heard you talking with Bubby, every single word. You're so good with him, and I'm sorry for all this, for upsetting you. Just stay and we can sort it out in the morning. I just want to hold you tonight." It's like he didn't hear me, or maybe he just didn't think I was serious. I'm irritated and just want to go home.

There is a heat sneaking back into my cheeks again, I'm so easily agitated and flustered right now it's best if we don't talk any further tonight. "Peeta, how can you just act like nothing happened? The thing that I said last night, you aren't there and that's fine. In fact, it's better if you don't say things you aren't ready for. I'm sorry I said it, but I'm more sorry you felt the need to bring it up." I can't even use the phrase 'I love you', it feels heavy in the air though, the weight of what was said dancing between us.

"You're sorry that you feel that way?" His words hit me like a ton of bricks, there is no good way to answer this. Peeta seems so emotionally immature, despite the fact that he grew up before he should have to take care of Bubby.

I'm getting closer to the door even though my stuff is in the living room, just looking for an exit at this point. "No. I'm sorry I said it like that and put you on the spot and changed things between us." My voice breaks, "I do feel that way, very much so. I can't help it. I could have helped getting wasted and unloading on you. You could have helped by not bringing it up." I feel his hand on my wrist, and I pull it away, "I'll see you later, Peeta. Good night."

Peeta then uses the one tool in his arsenal that completely disarms me, leaves me bare and emotionally raw, "Katniss, don't leave. I love you. I love you, and you can't leave." He tosses the words out there like I'll believe him, like it changes anything. Like me telling Bubby a bedtime story is just what he needed to realize he loves me. If he doesn't mean it, it's fucked up that he is saying it, and if he does mean it, it's fucked up it took this to make him say it.

Fury washes over me like hot water, scalding my rational reasoning and completely obliterating my filter. "Fuck that and fuck you, Peeta. Act like a man, you are twenty fucking five years old, and you are acting like a fifteen year old. I'm done trying to figure you out." He's pushed me too far. I'm done with the situation and everything that is going on right now, but as far as I'm concerned he can take the statement however he wants.

Peeta holds eye contact with me the entire time, he clenches his teeth and his eyes narrow. "You don't know…" his voice trails off as his hands clench open and shut, open and shut.

"What don't I know? That your mother is a horrible bitch and you have a lot riding on your shoulders, because, believe me I get that. I also get that your brother in there adores you, and that taking care of him is probably sometimes difficult even though you would never admit it, because you love him more than anything. I know a lot more than you give me credit for." Peeta's face has softened, the hard line of his jaw relaxing as a tear streaks down his check, "I'd know a lot more Peeta if you would just let me."

There are thick streams of tears falling from his face now, Peeta takes a deep breath and exhales, and then another as if he is trying to steady himself. This is getting nowhere, and I know that the longer I stay the more things I will say that could cause this to be unsalvageable.

"But, I said I love you." There is an underlying tremor heavy in his voice, it's like a whisper curling around me, pulling at my heart. Peeta sounds so broken, but I can't let him do this to me. I can't let him make this about him, when he's the one who started this mess. He started this and now he's saying what he thinks I want to hear so I'll stay. He admitted to some type of control play, and while I get that his childhood was shitty, and he may have felt out of control then, I'm not going to allow him to play that game with me.

I rush towards the door, completely furious, hurting, and unable to handle Peeta right now. He's following me, I hear his heavy footfalls all the way to my car where he grabs my shoulder turning me around. "Leave me alone, Peeta. You keep pushing and pushing, and I've had enough, okay?"

Peeta leans in and kisses me. His lips are rough and greedy against mine, it is unlike any kiss we have ever shared, and it both infuriates and arouses me to the point I can't think of anything aside from channeling my rage into something physical. I reciprocate and Peeta groans loudly before he presses his body against mine, sandwiching me between him and the door of my car.

I pull at the curling hairs at the base of his neck, and the sharp way in which he pulls in a breath lets me know that it hurt him. I should care, but I don't. All I care about is the way his tongue is working with mine, my anger churning and coursing, evolving into something completely different. His hands grip my hips hard, pulling and I wrap my legs around his waist opening myself up to him. Peeta's hips rock against mine, his cock is rigid and pushing against the inseam of my jeans.

I hate him.

I hate that he makes me feel this way.

I hate that I want him so fucking bad I can't pull away even when I'm livid, and he is the cause.

Unexpectedly, Peeta wraps his arms around me and pushes up off the car, taking me with him. He walks us through the front door and down the hallway to his room before laying me on the bed, covering my body with his. I moan, and it's a loud cracking moan that is a testament to how much my body craves his. He covers my mouth with his, stifling the moan and licking at the roof of my mouth while his hands work at the fasten on my jeans.

Peeta is beautiful, and broken, and bad news for me, but I can't deny the way I feel about him or the pulsing electric current of desire and need coursing between us.

I shimmy my hips and help him tear the denim from legs, and then watch as he removes his pants. Peeta pulls on my ankles, shifting my hips in such a way that my legs are dangling from the edge of the bed and my ass is close to falling over. He positions himself between them, naked from the waist down and extremely hard. Peeta leans over, hovering slightly above my body before laying his chest on top of mine and we resume kissing while our hips work in tandem, creating a messy rhythm as he slides his cock over the top of me through my underwear.

He has taken us a step backwards, back to essentially dry humping, and while it feels good I know that it will take forever to get a significant build this way as the underwear provides a barrier.

My hands grip Peeta's hips tightly. We've stopped kissing and his face is mere inches in front of mine, eyes connected, and our breathing has increased to the point it can no longer be described as rapid, it is more of a pant. He has increased the speed of his thrusts against me, I've stilled my hips because I can't keep up as the ache between my legs and my throbbing clit leave me unsteady. I wrap my legs around his hips, and then with the next downward thrust, he is there. The head of Peeta's cock is pushing against the thin fabric of my panties, which are the only thing preventing us from joining.

He is so close, but incredibly far away.

The thin barrier preventing us from coming together is slick and malleable, so when he thrusts back even harder this time, it's as if he enters me just slightly. "Oh fuck, oh fuck" Peeta's lips ghost over mine, not in a kiss, but a proclamation of desire. "Katniss, I need you."

The pressure of him being right there is such a tease, my walls start clenching and pulling for him. I need him too; in the worst way I need Peeta inside of me. I've never wanted like this, never been wound so tight, and never worked so hard to fill an emptiness. This emptiness that he has created by not being ready to deal with the emotional magnitude of all the spoken, and especially the unspoken, words between us.

Peeta's hand rubs up the backside of my thigh, applying pressure and I let it fall from his waist as he presses against my hip, pinning me to the bed and splaying my leg to the side. His hand is under the waist band of my underwear pulling them off, and then his finger is inside me, "Ahhh, fuck." The words roll off my tongue as my back arches up off the bed. He works another finger inside me, pumping them in and out grazing my clit with each outward pass, his other hand pinning me to the bed.

Peeta joins me on the bed, pushing me back so that he is resting on his ankles between my legs. Then his other hand matches the one pinning me down, both hands move to my knees pushing out and down so that I am completely open to him. Peeta leans his weight into the hands on my knees and hovers back from me slightly so that the head of his cock is grazing back and forth over my clit as he rocks on top of me. "Peeta," his name is a heavy gasp on my lips, back arching with each pass of him over my wet, swollen skin.

He groans and lets go of one of my knees to drop his chest flush with mine. Peeta kisses as he continues to slide over me, "Katniss, oh, Katniss." He pants over my lips, the new position changing the angle and his tip is now positioned, whether inadvertently or intentionally, at my entrance, slowly thrusting against me. Peeta isn't inside me, but the head of his cock is pressed to me, and my body pulls for him. The feeling is heaven, he's so close just the very tip of him ebbing and pushing inside of me. One thrust of his hips or twist of my mine, and I could be filled by him.

It feels so incredibly good, but so wrong too. If I go there with him, it would ruin me. We have so much emotional baggage to sort through before we are really ready to be here, before I can give myself to him physically even though I've already done so emotionally.

"I don't have any condoms, Katniss." Peeta is still there, pressed just barely inside of me, hips quivering waiting for me to give the okay. "You're protected by the pill, so is this okay?"

"No," I somehow spit out. My heart and mind win out over my body's obvious needs. Peeta takes a step back. He's flushed all over, a red tinge to his normally pale skin, breathing labored and eyes wild. This got entirely out of control in a matter of minutes, our physical chemistry and pain igniting an almost unstoppable force of hormones and desire. On shaky legs, I stand and face him as we regard each other, unsure of what to do next until I drop to my knees in front of him.

I grab him by the base and lick him, tongue swirling around his head, tucking underneath and around the ridge as I taste my own desire still sticky on his skin there. He breathes my name and cradles my head in his hands gently as I take him all the way into my mouth, sucking and lathing him with my tongue over and over again. I look up at him from under my eyelashes finding him watching me, bottom lip snagged between his teeth studying me while I take his cock in my mouth. Peeta's eyes remain open, connected with mine as he comes. I swallow and then lick him completely clean.

He reaches for me and helps me to my feet then kisses me softly, the urgency gone from earlier. "You are amazing. That was amazing. I'm so sorry." Peeta whispers as he backs me up to the edge of the bed, "I'm going to show you just how amazing that was." He kisses me as he guides me backwards, deep and gentle.

I place a hand on his chest, he is still wearing his t-shirt from earlier, a reminder of our hasty, irate kisses and the conversation we were having earlier. Nothing has changed, just our hormones got in the way, "Peeta," I know that I sound exasperated, but I can't help it, I am so completely wrecked emotionally that I'm not sure what I want anymore, "I meant what I said earlier, I need to go."

"Go? I mean, we almost made love and you're leaving now?" His voice takes on a high shriek towards the end of the statement, it's almost hysteric in nature.

The way that he said it lets me know that this is the problem. Peeta is entirely fixated on me leaving and going somewhere, he doesn't trust that I'll be back to talk about this further. It stings, even though I am almost positive it has something to do with the baggage his mother dealt him. He has to realize though that he can't control every situation, he can't.

I sit on the edge of the bed, "We can't just fool around and forget what we were talking about, Peeta. It's a good thing we didn't have condoms, we aren't ready for that step and well, I'm not sure I'll ever be now that I know you aren't here with me on the feelings train." I still need to think about this, figure it all out, decide whether or not I can be with a man that I love who doesn't love me back. To be completely honest, I don't think I can, but I don't say that now.

"You only hear what you want to. I told you that I love you too."

He's clinging so desperately to this that I'm starting to believe it may be true, but my mind is the furthest thing from clear, "I heard you Peeta, but I think you said it under duress. You don't want this to be over. I respect that, but you have to respect that I deserve to be loved wholly and completely."

"You really have no clue, do you? I'm an idiot. I love you, Katniss. I just didn't know how to admit it." He kneels in front of me now, resting his head heavily in my lap and wrapping his arms around my legs, squeezing.

I stroke his hair, and he shudders and sighs heavily, "We can talk about this more tomorrow, after Bubby is gone and we've both had some time to reflect. My leaving is not a reflection about how I feel about you. I need to go for me. I need to put some space between us so I can think clearly."

"What if you don't come back?" Peeta pulls tightly on my calves, hugging them to his body.

Everything with Peeta is so desperate, he's so emotionally stunted. I thought that I was a mess, how will I ever pull someone so damaged back together, when I'm broken too? "You have to trust that I will. It's the first step to figuring this out. You trust that I'll come over tomorrow evening after Bubby is gone, and I'll trust that you'll be honest with me about how you are feeling, and not just say what you think I want to hear."

"Okay." He stands and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. "I'll walk you out." Peeta's blue eyes are watery with tears. "I'm sorry Katniss, I'm so sorry. I just don't know how to deal with stuff like a normal person."

With my hand I cup his jaw, "It's okay. We'll figure it out…" I take a deep breath and exhale before saying the three words that I've never said to anyone who wasn't a family member or friend, "I love you."

The words now carry a new meaning for me, they mean that I have finally fallen in love, and I'm not entirely sure if after tonight I'll get another chance to say them out loud. It's an experience that everyone should have once, and I don't regret saying them.

The look on Peeta's face is warm and sweet, he's not judging me for saying them, in fact he looks relieved. He starts to say something and I press a shaky kiss to his mouth, and then move a finger to his lips to quiet him.

I'm not ready to trust that what he was going to say is genuine.

* * *

**A/N: I want to thank each and every one of you for all the wonderful reviews and follows. Seriously, I can't believe how great all of you are and the support that you give me is much more than I deserve. Thank you so much!**

**Thank you, Wildharp…for keeping me focused, the story flowing so well, and of course all the 'important' conversations we have in the time between updates!**

**Find me on tumblr (kismetff) for more information about First Speech and my latest fic, Linger.**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Possible trigger warning, allusion to child abuse.**_

* * *

Peeta is silent as I dress. His eyes never leave me though; even with my back turned, I feel him watching my every move. I don't rush, even though I desperately want to get out of here. If he is going to trust that I'm coming back, I have to give him a reason to. If my eagerness to leave is evident, Peeta will assume that I'm never returning.

I don't know what decision I'll make. I do know that I will be back; I have to come back. Harper is here.

Peeta walks me all the way to the door. Since my 'I love you,' neither of us has said a word- I'm not sure what there is to say. When we reach the door he puts a hand on each of my shoulders and squeezes tightly before pressing a kiss to my forehead, holding it there much longer than usual. When he moves away, I roll up on the balls of my feet and press a kiss to his cheek. His eyes flutter shut and his hands tug on my shoulders to pull me into a hug. We stand there holding onto one another tightly, and I am the first to break contact when I back away.

"Good night, Peeta." My eyes drop from his as I say this and I turn my back to him, reaching for the door handle, suddenly overcome with the desire to follow him back to his bedroom, curl up, and go to sleep.

"Katniss?" There is a questioning lilt as he says my name; if he asks me to stay, despite how hurt and confused I am, I think I'll stay.

I turn and face him again, but keep my hand on the door handle, "Yes."

"Sleep well, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Peeta assured me not five minutes earlier that he trusted that I would return, the look in his eye tells me he is trying, but that he doesn't really expect to see me again. "I'll be over in the evening. You sleep well, too."

We have so much to overcome before we can really be together, and if he means it, if he truly loves me. I think he is worth it. The problem is that I have no clue in how to go about figuring out if his words are true, or if he is just scared of me leaving.

* * *

_2001: 12 years old..._

The boy stared at his hands in disbelief.

He was sitting in the back of a car weaving through residential streets, lined with identical houses, townhomes with brightly painted shutters, and flower boxes under the windows. He didn't notice any of it though. Not the verdant yards, or the squirrels playing chase on the power lines, and especially not anything the woman in the driver seat was saying. He was too busy staring at his hands.

The tinny smells of copper and salt burned his nose. It wasn't necessarily an unpleasant smell, more like an unfamiliar one that had suddenly become painfully familiar. He would never forget the smell.

His brother was with him, riding in the front seat as the woman driving chattered on, telling the boys what they could expect when they arrived at their destination. His eldest brother nodded silently with red-rimmed eyes while the younger boy tuned her out. It wasn't intentional; he just couldn't focus on anything but his hands and the smell and the way his stomach rolled with a deep ache as he thought about what had happened.

He couldn't stop thinking about the thick, red fluid that had blurred the edges of his chalk drawing. It started slowly, creeping over the images he had painstakingly created over every inch of cement available. It wasn't at all like when he took the hose to his drawings, washing them away; instead the viscosity of the fluid meant that it hovered heavily over his chalk creation.

He wondered many things, but he could not stop staring at his hands- hands that were stained with chalk dust and tainted with rust-colored smears of his brother's blood. The smell of his brother's blood forever engrained in his memory, and the way that it had flown from his head in abundance, covering a morning's worth of artwork in a matter of minutes.

There had been so much of it, yet no one would tell him where the ambulance had taken his Bubby and whether or not he was going to be okay.

When they finally pulled into their destination, the eldest Mellark started sobbing again. It was a quiet sob that scared his baby brother. There was a sign in the yard that had a giant pinwheel painted on it along with the words 'Children's Advocacy Center;' in many regards the sign was cheery and should have made Peeta feel happy. He didn't feel happy though; he was terrified and unsure of everything that was happening. He wondered what the word 'advocacy' meant and for the first time realized that he should have been listening to what the nice woman who was driving them had been talking about. A strangled cry escaped his brother's lips at that moment, and Peeta thought that perhaps not knowing was better.

He just wanted to wash his hands and the cement in his backyard were Bubby had fallen, wash away a day that had started with Cheerios and cartoons and ended with his brother being taken away in an ambulance and Mother being led away in handcuffs, and so much blood that Peeta was positive Bubby wasn't going to be okay.

The following hour was not a pleasant one, despite the staff of the advocacy house trying their hardest to make it one. Peeta was not immediately allowed to bathe, even though this and a clean set of clothing was promised. There was a doctor and nurse and many other people brought in and Peeta was made to be in his underwear in front of them while they photographed the bruises that his mother created in places she knew no one would see. This was an especially humiliating process, and still not one person would tell him where Bubby was and how he was doing. There was even a police officer who let Peeta hold her badge, and even though she looked nothing like any police officers he had ever seen before, Peeta trusted her.

The house was like any other house, furnished to appear homey and inviting, but it was still obvious to Peeta that this was not like any other house. There was one thing about being there that he liked though: the dogs. There were two, both small, but different in personality. Peeta preferred the black and white Boston terrier that jumped onto the couch beside him and lapped at his cheeks while his brother sat on the other end of the couch working his fingers through the fur of a dog with an indiscriminate breed.

The staff of the advocacy house, a place where children who were suspected victims of abuse were taken, allowed the dog to come with him when they questioned him. The questions were what Peeta hated most about the advocacy house, all sorts of questions about him and his brothers and then questions that seemed silly all together.

They told him he was being helpful with his answers and that there wasn't a wrong one, but if there wasn't a wrong answer then how come no one would take him to see his Bubby?

The whole time he stared at his hands. The blood had been rinsed but the stains were still present to Peeta.

He would wear the burden of his brother's blood on his hands, long after they were washed clean. It was his fault, after all, the licks were intended for him, not for Bubby.

It was on him.

* * *

_2012: Present Day..._

The photo is hidden in a drawer, encased in a silver frame and wrapped in a towel. It is very dear to me, but I can't bear to look at it all the time because the feelings associated with it. When I locate it, under winter sweaters and thermal underwear in my drawer, I carefully unwrap it and am greeted with one of the few family photos that all four of us are in.

I love this photo for many reasons. My dad and mom were on their way to the annual firefighters ball so they are dressed to the nines, my mom in her favorite baby blue cocktail dress and my dad in his navy dress blues. They are a stunning pair. When I look at the picture, I can almost smell the brass polish that my mom would use on the buttons and bars of my dad's blues. In the photo, Prim is seven years old, but my dad is wearing her on his hip like a toddler and my mom has one of her arms wound around my dad's waist. All three of them are beaming at the camera, I'm pretty sure Hazelle Hawthorne was the one behind it because it was taken at the Hawthornes' house.

Then there is me, I've got a gigantic scowl on my face and my arms are crossed over my chest. There are a few feet between them and me, my body language screaming that I was pissed about something.

It was an extremely stupid something. Something that should have never prevented me from looking happy in one of the few photos I have of all of us together. It was over two things that had conglomerated into one big nasty frown on my face. My mom interrupted something I was doing to take the photo, and Gale had pissed me off about something, which was nothing new. We are and were best friends, but we fought and still tend to disagree like cats and dogs.

I trace the lines of my father's face and then my mother's. If only I had known then, what I know now, I would have smiled like my life depended on it in that picture. I'm so pissed at my eleven- year-old self, because really I had no reason to be such a surly child. While other kids were going through their parents divorcing and split Christmases, my parents were enamored with one another. Until my dad died, my life was one bathed in love. I was unquestionably loved, as was Prim, and then there were my parents who lived the definition of happily ever after.

I wish I could talk to my mom about this, ask her if it was worth it. If those sixteen years she had with my father before he was taken from us was worth the hell that she experienced when he died. I can't though, because she is still completely fucked up over his absence. It ruined her; being in love ruined my mother. I don't want to become her. I don't want to be a shell of myself. I want to live my life and be happy, but being with Peeta has given me an entirely new definition of what happy is.

It's not that I'm unfulfilled without him; that's stupid. It's more like I now have someone that I want to share things with. I want to share the good and the bad, and even in this moment when I'm so pissed at him, I find myself wanting to show him this picture and see what he would make of the scowl I'm wearing. I bet he would make me not hate the photo so much, he'd find a way to spin it so it didn't seem terrible that I'm frowning while everyone is smiling.

"I take it things with lover boy aren't going well if you're staring at that old thing." Johanna's voice startles me. I didn't even know she had gotten home. I should have shut my door.

She walks up behind me and I find myself tilting the photograph her way, even though she has seen it before. "You could say that." My voice cracks a little, and I'm suddenly having a hard time not crying.

Johanna takes it from my hands, "Is it disrespectful to say that your dad was kind of smoking hot?" There is no way she missed the crack in my voice or the way that my breathing has sped up when she is standing so close to me.

"Where do you think I got this hot bod from?" There are a few tears falling now, but I manage to crack a bad joke back. Johanna is good for things like this, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

She hands me the photo back, "Do I need to call Hawthorne to go kick his ass?"

I shake my head back and forth in a rabid sort of way, eyes closed, jaw clenched, just trying to hold it together. "Not necessary," I bark out.

"I'm here." Johanna squeezes my hand quickly and then drops it.

"I know."

* * *

_2001: 11 years & 13 years old..._

Rain stuttered against the window, but the teen was completely immersed in the game in front of him. Headphones drowned out the sound of the rain, replacing it with the tinkling, clashing sounds of the game soundtrack. The headphones were tucked tight against his ears, flattening his dark hair like a headband against his scalp, so the unexpected pop of one rising from his ear and then quickly dropping again startled Gale. His best friend stared back at him when he looked up from his game with a gigantic grin on her face and her own handheld device in her hand.

Without saying a word, he untucked his long legs from underneath him and made room in the giant arm chair for Katniss, who handed him the end of a connector so she could join his game. No words were exchanged while they connected and started playing, but soon unintelligible giggling and Pikachu noises could be heard bubbling over the top of the chair and into the kitchen where the adults were visiting before their outing.

Soon enough, the two were interrupted and brought into the kitchen to eat with the rest of the kids. It wasn't anything special, just dinosaur chicken nuggets and French fries, but the Everdeens and the Hawthornes were getting ready for a very special night for both the adults and the children. "Okay, guys, if you need us at any time, just call the numbers on the fridge. Gale, are you listening?"

The gangly teen wasn't really paying attention as close as he should have been, he was too busy shoving food into his mouth and tugging on Katniss's braid to get her to do the same. They had important gaming to return to. "Yeah Ma, I'm listening."

Hazelle continued, but pulled his plate from in front of him so he would be forced to look at her, "This is the first time we have trusted you to watch the kids, you have a lot of responsibility here and I don't want you playing the game all night. You've got to pay attention to them, you hear?"

"Wait. I thought I was taking care of the kids, too," Katniss interrupted, as it was her understanding that she was not being watched, but helping to watch. The insinuation that Gale would also be babysitting her made her round cheeks flush with anger.

Mr. Everdeen placed a hand on Katniss's shoulder, his way of telling her without words that it wasn't polite to interrupt. She remained silent for the rest of the speech that Hazelle had prepared for Gale, but that didn't mean she was going to let him get away with thinking that he was her boss tonight.

"Did you hear that? I'm in charge!" Gale stated proudly, as they cleared their plates and headed into the living room. The adults had moved to the living room to start taking photos and get ready. It was the Firefighters' Ball that night so they were all dressed especially nice.

Katniss crossed her arms over her chest, following him into the living room. Her parents were standing in to the side of the room, arms wrapped around one another. Her dad was speaking quietly where only her mom could hear, and Katniss rolled her eyes. No one else had parents that acted like hers and it was so embarrassing sometimes. She wished they would be like normal parents and not so touchy with one another all the time.

"I want a picture with all my beautiful girls," her dad gushed while tickling her mother's sides, who responded with a playful pat on his chest. "Katniss, Prim, come here so Hazelle can get us all in," he directed, and Prim came running while Katniss stalked slowly over to the trio.

"Daddy, hold me?" Prim asked and her father scooped her up, and Katniss rolled her eyes. Prim could be such a baby sometimes it wasn't even funny. She felt irritated by it all. Mad at Gale for being older and in charge, mad at her parents for always making a scene, mad at Prim for playing the baby, and especially mad that she had to pose for a picture when it was the last thing she wanted to do.

* * *

_2012: Present Day..._

When I wake, I feel more unsettled than when I went to sleep. My head is pounding, my eyes are itchy, and my entire body protests getting out of bed, even though I am no longer capable of falling back asleep. I smell coffee though, and I know that Johanna has to work in a few hours. She's the only one I have that I can really talk to about this, and it is obvious from the shitty way that I slept last night that trying to figure out this one on my own isn't working so hot in my favor.

Johanna is sitting at the kitchen table, thumbing through a magazine. "You look fucking awful, Everdeen." Her eyes rove over me, before she stands and pours another mug of coffee.

Try as I might, I can't come up with a suitable insult, so I settle for raising my eyebrows and shrugging my shoulders, "Appreciate the compliment, I do what I can."

"Care to tell me where my breakfast buddy is?"

Harper's absence was hard on me; every time I would start to slip into sleep, I would reach across the bed him. Every time I came up empty-handed: no furry bed companion, no Peeta. My inability to sleep was only exacerbated by the fact that I was acutely aware of how alone I was.

"He's still at Peeta's." Johanna eyes widen in surprise at this, to her credit though, she doesn't say anything. As I settle myself in the chair across from her, she places the mug in front of me, "I almost called Hawthorne last night, and now I realize I should have if you are staring at old family photographs and leaving your baby with just anyone. Care to fill me in?"

I want to talk to Johanna, this feels like something that Gale would just blow up at, but then again, Gale is the only friend in my life that is in a successful relationship. I'm not sure what to do. I can't hold it in any more though, and Johanna is here and unlikely to overreact. "You don't have to, you know that, but it's obvious you need to talk to someone before your insides explode."

"I've found someone worth being with, and I'm pretty sure he is more fucked at relationships than I am." The inky black liquid in the cup in front of me is easier to look at than making eye contact with Johanna. With my spoon I stir the liquid in circles, waiting to hear what she has to say to that. There is a good chance she will just make light of it, but I'm hoping she will surprise me.

Johanna sighs, long and deep. "You love him, don't you?" She sounds resigned, almost disappointed, like I've made an error in judgment and she isn't quite sure how we are going to fix it. This isn't like the time I backed into the apartment complex mailboxes; this is so much more than that.

"Am I that transparent?" There is a bite to my voice as I'm irritated and rightfully so. "Never mind. I'm going back to bed." I stand from my place at the table and slam the chair back into place, hard.

"Wait, wait. I didn't mean it in a bad…shit, Katniss, you know I'm no good at stuff like this."

I twist my body around to face her, she looks exasperated and runs a hand through her short dark hair. "I'm listening." The words are shorter than I intended and I wish I had the guts to apologize to her for barking at her, but frankly I'm so tired that I let my words just hang in the air between us.

Johanna smirks at me, "I think the whole point of this is that I'm listening. You have to talk." Her hand gestures to the chair I was sitting in before folding in against her chest with the other.

So, I talk. I tell her about everything: the rules, Peeta's fucked up childhood, my drunken admission, his admission under duress, and I even tell her about Bubby and my instant connection with him. I admit that I'm ready to walk away, that I think it is best for me to not be around him anymore and I even tell her that the thought of not seeing him anymore makes my stomach hurt. By the time I finish, we have finished a pot of coffee and started another, Johanna stares at me with a look I can't decipher. "Well, are you going to say something?"

Her hand goes through her hair again, and she stands to pour herself another cup of coffee before sitting down in front of me with a heavy sigh. I know she isn't being dramatic, she's just weighing my situation in her mind before speaking, "You guys have some willpower. I'm shocked that you haven't fucked yet, or even really fooled around very much. There is an obvious physical attraction there, and I don't doubt you for one second if you say you love him. I know that is not easy for you, at all, Katniss. If you really don't know what to make of how he feels, maybe you should impose a physical separation. You know?"

"You mean, like not see each other?" It's really not so different than what I was planning on doing already, but I'm not convinced avoiding one another is going to do anything but deepen the chasm that the 'I love you' inequality has brought about.

"Yeah, just don't spend time together for a while, but still talk on the phone and email and chat on the computer and stuff. Give him time to figure it all out without pushing him away completely. Plus, it sounds like you have been trying so hard not to fuck that you spend most of your time focusing on when you will. Am I right?"

Johanna's idea makes a lot of sense, and it makes me realize how problematic this entire situation is because I can't imagine Peeta being ten minutes away and not getting to see him when I want. It's better than what I was planning though, a lot better because there is a light at the end of this tunnel. One that says it could work out for the best and after a few weeks I'll get to see him as much as possible. Of course, this could all come crashing down around me if Peeta doesn't really love me.

Right now, I have the option of going over there and ending it, retaining a bit of dignity in this entire mess. However, if I go over there and suggest this physical separation but to retain contact in other ways and he turns me down, I'm going to feel pretty horrible. Being with Peeta is worth it to me, but am I worth it to him?

_Does Peeta care enough to give this a go?_

_Am I brave enough to even ask for it?_

* * *

The drive to Peeta's house takes longer than it should because I'm looping circles around his neighborhood, listening to that damn song from the Stag party on repeat. A part of me wants to just walk away from this all, wash my hands of it and remember my time with him as a cautionary tale as to what happens when you let yourself fall in love. I don't think I can though. This was no 'letting myself fall in love,' it just happened. I'll never be the same and I owe it to myself and to Peeta to see if there is anything we can salvage from this.

I rap on his door and it takes him awhile, but finally the door opens and he is standing there in the doorway looking like everything I should be avoiding. It's an awkward standstill and we kind of stare at one another, neither of us taking the initiative to greet one another when he starts to move towards me with his arms open. Peeta is going to embrace me and I know he is just letting me know that it is going to happen. I appreciate the fact that he is giving me an out, but I can't lie; it would be nice if he just couldn't resist himself and wrapped me up in his arms immediately. So, when he reaches me and tentatively circles his arms around my body, I don't hug him back until I just can't resist anymore.

He smells like garlic and cooking smells, his strong arms and the warmth of his chest pressed against me feels like heaven. It's hard not to embrace him back when all I've really needed all day was a giant hug. A sigh escapes my lips from the breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I tuck my head into his chest and his hold on me tightens and his arms make it hard for me to breathe or do anything else but be completely surrounded by him. I love him; it's so painfully obvious to me through the way my body and everything else is just more at ease when I'm near him. I really love him.

Peeta surprises me when he tilts my chin, and it feels like he is asking me if he can kiss me. However, he doesn't wait for a response; instead he lowers his mouth to mine and softly presses our lips together. I shouldn't allow this to happen because I know that I will lose my resolve, but his lips fit perfectly against mine, slightly chapped and tasting like tomato sauce. He deepens the kiss and the burn begins again, and I want to be consumed by this feeling. Our mouths and tongues move against one another slowly, teasingly, savoring one another and being together. We kiss until he moans, and the noise is enough to startle me back to reality, to remember why I came here.

I need time.

He needs time.

We need time.

If there is going to be a relationship, taking time is the only logical step.

We stare at one another, and Peeta speaks first, "I love you, Katniss. I love you so much." He holds my chin in place and I am forced to look at him as he says this. The words ease over me like a comforting balm. I believe him. I think I really do, but Johanna is right. The premise for whatever it is that we are doing has been about all the wrong things: control and sex, and nothing it should have been about – us getting to know one other, understanding one another's past experiences, and helping each other be better, not worse.

"Peeta…" the words stick in my throat, I'm choking on the emotion behind it all. "I love you, too."

I'm positive there are tears rolling down my cheeks, but none of it really seems to matter to Peeta, who is pressing kisses to my forehead, my eyelids, the bridge and tip of my nose, my cheeks, all over my face as he repeats "I love you" over and over again before sweeping me off of my feet and cradling me in his arms. He kicks the door shut, and carries me inside. "I'm never letting you go again, Katniss Everdeen, you hear me?"

He's crying, too. Thick, slow, tears that are accompanied by an uneasy laugh, letting me know that he is just relieved and this is how his relief is being expressed. It makes what I have to say next much more difficult. Peeta sits me down on the couch. "I need to stir the sauce. I'll turn it down and we… I don't know what we can do, but I just want to be here with you." He presses a quick kiss to my temple and hurries off to the kitchen.

Both dogs bombard me, Harper resting his head heavily on my lap and Hemingway jumping all over the place.

"I hope you like bolognese," Peeta calls out from the kitchen. I don't know what bolognese is, but it smells delicious. I need to get control, to do what I set out to do when I came here, but Peeta is unintentionally making it hard on me. I never expected his response to me at the door; I never thought I would feel that way and trust him like that, but that doesn't mean that a few weeks getting to know one another without seeing one another is a bad thing.

This is tough.

I push the dogs off of me and stand, walking towards the kitchen., "Peeta, dinner smells wonderful, but there is something we should talk about first, okay?" Even though I try to make my voice non-threatening and stay calm, so that I don't alarm him, his face falls any way.

"I have a feeling I'm not going to like this, am I?" His voice is strained, laced with hurt.

I reach for him and he stiffens, but allows me to take his hand. "Well, maybe, but in the long run, it's for the best."

This triggers something in him, Peeta's response is irate and immediate. "God damnit. I am so fucking tired of other people telling me what is best for me."

"Wait, before you get mad, it's just something I think we should do to make sure we get off on the right foot." Peeta eyes me warily, his vibrant blue eyes seeming startlingly cold from their usual warmth. "There is something between us Peeta, something incredibly special and I just want to do it right, hear me out, okay?"

He squeezes my hand tightly. "Yes, sorry. Yes, I agree completely, I'm listening."

My hand that isn't holding onto Peeta's is shaking, I'm so nervous, but I want to do this right. "I think we need to spend some time really getting to know one another." He looks at me with a questioning glance. I know what he is thinking, _isn't that what we have been doing?_ "The wedding is in two weeks, and I'd love for you to be my date, but I don't think we should see each other before then. I think we should talk on the phone and other things. I just think we should stop seeing each other in person to really establish something here."

"I don't understand Katniss, why is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?" He's dropped my hand and is staring at his, not making eye contact with me when he asks this and it makes me feel shitty that I've asked this of him, knowing he has separation issues. I'm hoping that time apart will build trust between us, will strengthen us for whatever is to come.

I reach for him and tug him to me, wrapping my arms around him and pressing kisses to his chest. "I do believe you, Peeta. Maybe not yesterday, but I believe you. I just think we need these next two weeks. I think we need some space."

"You really love me?" His voice is so small, he sounds so skeptical, I hope that I am doing the right thing here and not just breaking Peeta further.

"Without a doubt."

Peeta's lips find mine in a hard kiss, "Okay, we'll do this, but will you stay for dinner and maybe for a while afterwards." He speaks against my mouth, then deepens the kiss, making it hard for me to want to ever leave him.

"Of course."

* * *

**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate it! I also want to thank Court81981 for beta'ing and Wildharp for his continued support.**

**Children's Advocacy Houses are real, extremely important places and if you have any questions about them or the forensic interviewing process, please PM me and I'll help you find the information you seek.**

**Not much left, until the end...**


	18. Chapter 18

_**WARNING! Ridiculous amounts of fluff to follow – seriously, guys, I don't think I've ever written anything this fluffy and precious before. Something in me, tells me that these two need it, and I tried my hardest to keep true to original character. **_

* * *

We aren't even twenty four hours into the imposed physical separation, and already I can tell it is taking a toll on Peeta. I know it has something to do with old insecurities and things that have nothing to do with me, but when he calls me before he heads to work I'm shocked at how distant he seems. There is no laughter, no teasing, and not much of anything in the conversation that lets me know he is with me emotionally. When it is time to hang up the phone, he lingers momentarily after we say goodbye, and if I'm being honest I do to. I'm waiting to see if we are going to be one of those couples that bid farewell with an 'I love you'. I could use it right now, just a reaffirmation of something so new and fragile, yet I don't say it. Peeta stays on the line too, though most likely for the same reason I do.

This is not a time to play games. That's the problem though, I'm so new at this I first regard his reluctance as a stalemate- but really it isn't. There is no winning or losing here, if neither Peeta nor I fess up to our true feelings I fear we will both lose.

It's hard, but I need to find a way to tell him that I love him with my actions, even though we won't be around one another for a while. I create a mix CD with the song from the wedding as well as other songs that make me think of him. It's varied and I make sure to include lots of genres and types of songs, even ones that are purely about the physical.

He's working at the hospital tonight, so I locate his Jeep in the parking lot and tuck it into the driver side windshield wiper with a note, '_I love you because you came into my life and changed the way I see the world. The first song on this CD is the one that made me realize how special you were and what you meant to me, the rest are because they make me think of you. – Katniss.'_

Hands down, this is the dorkiest, sappiest thing that I've ever done, but he deserves this and I have a feeling that Peeta will eat it up. I drive away with a smile on my face and a copy of the same CD blaring over the radio.

* * *

I wake up to Johanna knocking on my bedroom door, it's late, near 10 am but I need the sleep after the shit weekend I've had. "You've got something waiting on the kitchen table for you, I've got to go though. See you tonight."

There is a plate of warm cookies waiting for me with a note, '_I love you because I know how out of character it was for you to do something like you did last night, but you did it for me. Enjoy these double chocolate peanut butter cookies, because I know the way to your heart is not through flowers, but through food. – Peeta.' _There are several cookies missing_, _Johanna having stolen some, but they are delicious and just what I needed to start the day.

He picks up on the first ring, "Morning, Katniss. I take it you found the cookies?"

"You should be in bed, shouldn't you?" I tease him playfully, "I did find them and you're right, the way to my heart is through my stomach."

Peeta's mood is so much lighter than it was yesterday, I can sense that even though he must be exhausted he feels less anxious, "Thanks for the CD. It was the best thing to find, and I listened to it the entire time I was baking."

"You are most welcome. I thought you should know about that damn song, I mean it is the reason I couldn't keep my mouth shut that night."

He laughs a little, "Well, I'm glad that you couldn't keep your mouth shut, and seriously sharing that song and the CD with me is the most romantic thing that any one has ever done for me."

It's my turn to laugh, and I find myself almost giddy giggling, almost, into the receiver, "Don't get used to it Mellark, I may have just exhausted all the sap for my entire life. You need to get to bed. Talk to you tonight."

"Good bye, Katniss."

While I get ready for the day, I plan my next surprise for Peeta. I don't want it to be too predictable, but I also don't want to do something over the top, seeing as we have twelve days before we can see one another again.

I just hope that I don't run out of ideas, because I think this is something we both need. Plus, it's nice getting things from him too, and I could definitely get used to being fed fresh cookies while being told how much I'm adored and the reason why.

_Who wouldn't love that?_

* * *

The days are creeping by and I'm pretty sure that today is the absolute worst. Nothing is going right. I wake up late. Then there isn't a clean coffee thermos available and I know that I won't survive without caffeine, so I brave taking a mug with me and end up spilling it all over the fucking place, most of which lands on my new white top. There isn't a parking spot to be found. I end being late to the lecture hall only to find that most of the class has already ditched instead of waiting for me and the other half isn't enthused to be listening to me. It doesn't get much better after that; I have an incident at lunch involving tomato soup that joined the coffee on my top leaving it a complete mess, my check engine light came on, and my phone dies leaving me unable to talk to Peeta before his shift at the hospital.

The only thing keeping me going is what I have planned for Peeta tonight, and seeing what he did for me. When I pull into the drive, I notice that Johanna's car is already here so whatever it is he probably left it with her. This bums me out a bit, because if it is edible, she may have already eaten it.

Like I had hoped, "There was something left for you," Johanna's voice greets me when I stumble through the front door, even though her eyes stay glued to the programming on the television.

"Where is it?" Excitement washes over me at the prospect at another token from Peeta.

Johanna smirks, "Eager aren't we? It's in the hallway by the bathroom door." Something doesn't feel right about this.

"Why did Peeta leave it there?" I call out as I strip my shoes off and head towards the hallway.

"I never said it was from Peeta, Harper yakked in the hallway, and as much as I love the dog, the puke is for you to deal with." Her words sink in as I almost step directly in what she is talking about.

I want to rear back and kick the shit out of the bathroom door, I don't because my toes are still tender from the last time I anger kicked something, instead I open it and slam it loudly - twice. "Of FUCKING course! FUCK!" I'm mumbling various choice curses and phrases while I retrieve the floor solution and clean up the mess, then slam my bedroom door behind me shouting loudly down the hallway, "Don't you even think of coming in here you asshole dog, you hear me!" My phone charger is in the wall outlet already, so I plug the phone in and then flop onto the bed. Lying on my side, I watch as the light of the sun recedes from the sky through the window until the entire room is glowing orange.

I don't wait for it to get completely dark though, because I have things to do and need to stop wallowing in my bad day so I can make sure Peeta gets my surprise for today. My phone now has enough juice to turn on, and there is one voicemail and two text messages from Peeta wishing me a good evening and telling me that he hopes we will get to talk later. Hearing his voice does wonders for my mood. I order and pay for his favorite pizza to be delivered to the hospital and then finally emerge from my room to find something to eat myself.

About an hour after I've ordered the pizza my phone pings with a text from Peeta, _You are too good to me_, it says complete with a dorky emoji of a pizza.

It makes me roll my eyes when I read it, but it also makes me feel good. _They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach_.

_Funny. I thought that was the way to Katniss Everdeen's heart, you know with food._ He knows me so well, my day feels so much better than it did a few hours ago, the playful text interaction has bolstered my spirits despite not getting a token from him today.

A part of me doesn't want to give him his 'because' statement since I didn't get something in return, but I remind myself that this isn't just for me, it's for Peeta and I shouldn't be so petty.

…_because you put so much of yourself into taking care of strangers. It makes me feel good to take care of you, even if it is just providing a pizza for your dinner._

It isn't until I'm in the shower that he responds, _Sorry. We got busy. That pizza was the perfect dinner- I had to hide it from everyone. Call me when you get in bed, I'll see if I can't duck out and call you back so I can say goodnight._

Don't get me wrong, I'm loving all this connecting and courting that Peeta and I are doing, but after a day like today I really wish he was here to help me alleviate a little tension. I'm contemplating whether or not I should call him before or after I've orchestrated a little release when my phone buzzes with another text, _Are you in bed yet? I'm going to take fifteen- can I call?_ Decision made, it'll have to be after, but no lie I'm going to have a hard time not talking to him about what I plan to do. That may be fine later on when we are closer to getting to see one another again, right now though I need to focus on what we set out to do.

_Getting ready for bed now, call when you can._

Within five minutes, Peeta calls, I wipe the toothpaste from my face before answering, "Hey Peeta, how's work?"

"It's a slow night, thanks again for the pizza. I almost hid it in the specimen fridge to keep it from everyone." He sounds pretty energized for it being 11:30 at night, "How about you, how was your day?"

"It was terrible, but so much better now."

"Because you are talking to me."

"Oh, no, not at all. It's better because I'm getting ready to visit my friend a bit before I go to sleep." I make sure that my voice is light and teasing.

Peeta's end of the line is silent while he processes what I said, he clears his throat, "Uh, huh. The friend from the closet, huh?"

"I better not say too much, you know since we are doing things this way, but if I use a 'because' statement does that make it okay? Or should I stop?" I'm biting my bottom lip right now, just talking about this is treading a thin line, and I really wish he were here to help quell the ache between my legs.

Peeta sniffs loudly once and then lowers his voice noticeably, "I think if you use a 'because' statement then it's okay to tell me a little bit about it, I mean we are only human, right?"

I don't want to divulge too much to him, but I do want him thinking about me. I slip into my room and quickly turn the light on so I can dig in the closet, "Well, let's just say, I love you because you are so hot I've renamed my vibrator Nurse Mellark."

There is a sigh on the end of the line, punctuated by a heavy groan, "Katniss," Peeta hisses, "I swear you will be the death of me."

"Are you hard?" With my fingers I'm stroking my inner thigh, this could be fun, but I doubt his break is long enough. "I think Nurse Mellark's batteries are dead, I'm going to have to go old school tonight."

His end of the line is punctuated with heavy breathing, "Is that so?...Wait, tell me about it tomorrow. I'm so hard right now, it's going to take everything I have to get this situation under control before I go back inside."

"Pity." I pull off my best fake pout into the phone, "Things are getting ready to heat up here. Good night, Peeta."

"Good night, Katniss. I love you." My heart does this clench, flutter combo when he says this to me, and I wonder when the novelty will wear off, when will I ever get immune to hearing Peeta express his feelings for me. I honestly hope the answer is never.

"Nine more days, Peeta. I love you." I wait until my phone beeps letting me know he has broken the connection before flipping off the lights and slipping under the covers, fully intending to take care of the throbbing between my thighs, when I catch a glance at the ceiling. There spelled out in glow-in-the-dark stars are the words I LOVE YOU and an arrow pointing towards the west window. Even though there is no one else in the room, I raise my hand to my mouth while I glance around before standing and going to where the arrow is pointing. It's dark so I grab my phone and use the light from it and find an envelope taped to the wall above the window frame.

"…_because being with you has made me realize that love can be limitless, without boundaries, just like the night sky. Which, you happen to be much lovelier than. –Peeta"_

When I message Peeta, I keep it simple and try not to let on just exactly how much this one surprise has affected me. _You are a cornball, you know that right?_

His response is almost instant, like he was just waiting for me to let him know that I had found his token. _I take it you finally turned the lights off. I was getting nervous you weren't going to notice._

_I love it and I love you, thank you. Good night._ There are tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I can't believe how much has changed in a month, Peeta's corny gesture is so over-the-top and almost silly, but I can't deny that I cherish it.

I stare at the letters until they fade and are almost invisible, needing to be charged by the light. Then I sleep, hard, waking with my alarm and a message sent by Peeta sometime after I had fallen asleep. _I hope tomorrow is better, love you._

* * *

The days inch by, but with every new token and 'because' statement we learn important things about one another and strengthen our bond. That doesn't mean I've completely stopped thinking about getting Peeta naked, but it does mean that when it does happen it'll be more than just a fuck. This terrifies and excites me. I've even taken to considering my last 'because' token to be a note letting him know that I trust him and want to take this next step without condoms. I'm on birth control and we are both clean, I'm just not sure I'm ready for the implications of that step though.

Without a doubt, the nights that Peeta isn't working are the hardest. Several times I find myself ready to ask if he wants to come over, but for the most part I hold it together. Our 'because' statement tokens have become varied; some big, for one of the days I got him a fishing pole, _'I love you because I'm excited to share things I love to do with you. – Katniss'_. Others are small_, 'I love you because your obsession with shiny rocks is nerdy. – Peeta'_ attached to a box of nerds candy. Some are meaningful, like the canvas depicting Bubby and Harper napping together in beautiful grey tones '_I love you because you are compassionate in a way that most people don't recognize, and you don't want to be recognized for it. Saving Harper, taking care of your sister, telling stories to Bubby, and being patient with me, all make me realize how lucky I am to know you. – Peeta'_. Even some of the most ridiculous tokens prove to be the most meaningful. A few days previous I left a can of spinach on his porch,_' I love you because you are so strong, despite the weight you carry. – Katniss'_. But, every single one is equally important.

I'm currently at the auto shop watching Gale struggle with something under the hood of an older model car, there is smoke pouring out and he keeps jumping back and hissing when he encounters something too hot to touch. I'm back home to have the final fitting for my Best Man outfit, but Peeta told me I could find today's token with Gale. Which is intriguing considering that Gale's reception of Peeta was a bit icy at the Stag party, "Hawthorne stop fucking around with that, it's almost closing time already and I've been patiently waiting for the last thirty minutes."

Gale backs away from the car, "Patiently waiting, eh? Not until you spill it on what's going on here, I mean Lover Boy explained a bit, but I'm having a hard time believing that you initiated this Catnip."

Color floods my cheeks, "Don't be an ass, Gale. I'm capable of being quite _precious_ when need be."

"You still haven't explained anything." Gale is wiping his stained hands with a rag, when he tosses it in my direction, I move to avoid it, "Here's the deal, you spill it, and I mean all of it, and then I'll close and we will go grab your gift."

"I had a feeling you would be this way," Madge walks into the garage, and over to Gale who leans over and places a quick kiss on her lips. "That's why I brought your package, Katniss." She beams, proud of herself. She sticks out like a sore thumb in the grease pit that is the garage, with her peach colored summer dress and matching sandals. I'm still not sure how my best friend ended up with someone as refined as her, but the way he is with her clues me into the fact that they were meant to be.

I hop up from my place on the bench, "Thanks Madge."

"Not so fast Katniss, I brought you the package, but you've got to give us some details. This all seems so wonderfully romantic." Madge brings both hands to her chest and practically swoons in front of me.

"It's not a big deal. We haven't seen one another for ten days now because we are trying to get to know one another without all the physical rush that we kept getting caught up in."

"You mean like you dry humping him and sticking your tongue in his ear at the Stag party, is that that physical rush you are talking about?" Gale sniggers lightly when he says this, and I lean over and punch him hard in the arm in response.

"Oh like you and Madge never dry hump in public," I leer at him and he chortles in response, Madge on the other hand turns bright red. "Peeta's been through a lot, I've been through a lot and this falling in love thing is scary to both of us. We are holding off on taking the next step…"

Gale snorts loudly as he interjects, "Fucking."

"Gale!" Madge whacks him on the arm, "Must you be so crass?" This makes me laugh too, because I know they do their fair share of fucking, but Madge is embarrassed by this revelation.

"Anyway, so we have been taking the time to get to know one another and somewhere along the way we started doing these 'I love you because…' tokens to let one another know that, while we can't see each other, we are thinking of the other." I leave out that I'm the one that initiated it.

Gale squeezes my shoulder, "Yeah, I made him spill it before I would help him, but I wanted to hear it from your mouth, too." Peeta going out of his way to seek Gale's guidance, and even drive here to deliver the gift, shows a lot of forethought. This may be the most special gift yet, even if it is just another batch of cookies.

Madge digs around in her purse before producing a black jewelry box. My heart stutters a bit, I'm not big into jewelry and things of that nature, and whatever is in the box intimidates me. She hands it to me, "You should know that even though he sought Gale's guidance, he picked this out on his own." Madge hands me the box while Gale produces a letter from his pocket that he holds in front of him, not handing it to me, but letting me know to start with the box.

The box feels heavy in my hand even though in all actuality weighs practically nothing. I look from it to Gale who just nods, "Just open it Catnip, the letter is for after."

The box is hard to pry open with my suddenly shaking fingers, of all the surprises I've gotten over the last few days, jewelry is not one that I expected, it seems so defining and it makes me anxious. Tears prick my eyes and the breath catches in my throat when I see the dainty silver necklace and pendent nestled inside the box. Peeta has given me a firefighter Maltese cross with my father's initials carved on the back. It's perfect.

"It's a fine piece of jewelry," Madge quietly interjects. "You can wear it every day, get it wet or dirty, whatever and it won't sustain damage."

My hands are shaking and I thrust the box at her, turn around and pull my hair back for her to help me put it on. The chain is long enough that it can easily be hidden under clothing or displayed up front, either way allowing it to rest directly on the skin above my heart. Tiny streaking tears are sliding down my face and I'm sniffling when I ask Gale to hand me the letter. _'I love you because you persevered in a way that I wasn't able to when faced with heartache. Thank you for loving me and not giving up, I wish that I had met your dad because he must have been amazing to have a daughter like you. – Peeta'._

"Catnip, are you okay?"

Gale places a large hand on my shoulder and I hand him the letter, "I need to see him. I can't wait any longer, I need to see Peeta." Gale looks down at the letter, presumably reading it before handing it to Madge and wrapping his arms around me. I know when Madge finishes the letter because she then wraps her arms around both of us in an awkward three person hug.

This is the moment that shows me that Peeta is worth it, loving him is worth the risk of the unknown.

* * *

**One more regular chapter and then the epilogue! I hope the fluff fest wasn't too much for you guys – it is so unlike what I usually write and I'm a bit nervous about the reception. Please let me know what you thought, even if it wasn't to your liking.**

**Thank you to the wonderful Wildharp, for holding my hand through the fluff creation and being a fantastic sounding board and beta!**

**Also, there have been some requests and discussions on tumblr about the possibility of a sequel to this story examining the nuances of handling a physical relationship when so many strong feelings are at stake. You can weigh in with your opinion if this is something you would enjoy reading, I'm just trying to determine reader interest! Thanks!**


	19. Chapter 19

_**The next chapter is the last chapter…but there will be an outtake from chapters 18-19 posted within the next few days. I just want to give you guys a chance to get this read first...there is something in it integral to the epilogue.**_

* * *

Bare foot, wearing only a pair of athletic shorts and smudges of paint – dark paint – splattered on his chest, Peeta opens the door to greet me. He stands in front of me with a shocked look on his face, he is as surprised to see me here as I am to be here. It has only been ten days since I saw him last, and damn if he doesn't look better than I remember. A smile ghosts over his lips, and I feel my own curl up in response, neither of us say a thing though.

We just stare at one another.

Peeta shifts his weight and wrinkles his nose at me in a playful gesture, as he tilts his head to the side while squinting his eyes. I drink in the sight of him, noticing everything. _I have fucking missed this man._ His hair is tousled and streaked with paint where he must have accidentally run his hand through it. I want to run my fingers through those wavy locks.

I raise my hand in front of me where I waggle my fingers at him. He laughs lightly before returning the wave with a sheepish grin. Before he can drop his fingers, I launch myself at him without warning. Jumping up I wrap my legs and arms around him - it is painfully obvious he wasn't expecting this when he falters and then falls back on his bottom, taking me with him. We land with a heavy thud and Hemingway rushes us, lapping at our faces while prancing all around thinking we are playing some sort of game. "What are you doing here?" Peeta asks as I push off of his chest and roll off of him, lying beside him on the floor. He doesn't sound mad, just surprised.

"I had to see you. Is that okay?" Maybe I should have called before coming over.

His arm snakes underneath me, gently rolling my body towards his, "It's more than okay. I see you got the necklace." Peeta's fingers find the pendant resting on my chest, rolling it between his fingertips.

"I don't know how to thank you, Peeta. I love it." My voice is quiet as I wrap my hand around his fingers playing with the necklace and give them a quick squeeze. Our faces shift at the same time, moving the focus from the necklace to where we are now making eye contact. I tilt my head, my lips hovering right underneath his.

His breath is hot against my lips, "I can't believe you are here. Is this my gift for today? _You_?" Intentionally, or unintentionally, Peeta's voice deepens, and the way that he says 'you' really resonates in my groin.

Peeta continues to stare into my eyes, his breath dancing across my lips but never leaning forward to kiss me. The mood has shifted from excited and playful, to a completely different type of playful. I inhale, making a ragged gasping kind of sound, "Uh, well…" He leans forward, cutting me off and nibbling on my bottom lip, gently working my chapped skin between his teeth.

He shifts and is suddenly on top of me, fully resting his hips against mine and pressing into me hard enough that my legs spread on their own accord from the pressure. Peeta settles himself further between my legs, "You were saying?" He quips before rolling his hips into mine. His loose athletic shorts hide nothing – Peeta is extremely hard. He kisses me, licking his way into my mouth, and I force my tongue forward to meet his. Our lips and tongues move in a harsh dance. The kiss is rough, conveying need and want, and possibly just the fact that we have missed each other. His teeth smash against mine uncomfortably while Hemingway lingers around our heads trying to interject and get attention somehow. However, the feeling of his rigid length pushing into the small inseam of the shorts I am wearing distracts me from the fact there is a dog actively trying to insert himself into our reunion.

The kiss breaks when Peeta moves to swat at the Boston terrier. I gasp raggedly to catch my breath, chest heaving, "I did bring you something."

Peeta rises from on top of me and helps me up, "Oh, what is it?" He sounds like a child being offered a present. My shorts have ridden up my thighs so when I stand nearly all of my legs are visible. I adjust them as I go back to the front door and retrieve the bag of stuff I got at the convenience store on my way over.

He takes the bag from me, reaching in and examining the contents, "Ah, beer that's always good, and I don't have to work tomorrow." Peeta hands me the beer before continuing to look, his eyes widen and that cocky smirk that pissed me off so much when I first met him takes over his face. He reaches into the bag and pulls the box out clearing his throat, "Condoms? A bit presumptuous aren't we?" Peeta arches his eyebrow and drops his chin, a goofy expression of simulated derision.

His shorts are still slightly tented from our impromptu dry humping session on the floor, so I reach over and lightly trace his erection, "From the state of your shorts, I would say no, but you tell me." I grasp him, wrapping my fingers around his cock the best I can through his shorts, "am I being _presumptuous_?" Peeta's hips tilt into my hand as I close the distance between us, he sighs heavily and leans into my touch.

"I missed you." Peeta's voice is low as his hands come to rest on my hips, "I love you. Let's not do this separation thing again, okay?" His eyes meet mine, there is a real question there. It's almost as if the mood has shifted from playful to serious with his words. We have all night to get to fooling around, now is about reconnection so I drop my hand from his crotch and wrap my arms around his neck. Peeta has been so patient and giving, waiting for me to figure my things out, and I know that it was a lot of work for him given his issues.

"No more separations. I love you, too." His arms wind around me, crushing me to his chest in a monster hug. Peeta nuzzles my neck through my hair and sighs audibly. "Did I interrupt your painting time?"

He doesn't bother pulling away from my neck, nodding as he stays cuddled against me. "Yeah, I was working on something special."

"Show me." I assert while my hands come to rest on his chest.

Peeta steps out of our embrace, but takes my hand in his and tugs me down the hallway to the bedroom he has converted into a studio. Even in the chaos of painting, the room is still orderly with his easel and drop cloth set up in a corner. The canvas on the easel is surprising – a blast from my past that causes me to take a step backward before walking up close to examine it. "The paint is wet, so be careful." Peeta warns as my fingers reach out to trace the outline of a face almost more familiar than my own. Pinned to the wall are several photos – all of which I have seen before, but none of which are anything in comparison to the scene straight from my childhood that Peeta has created on the canvas. On the bank of our favorite pond are two figures. One is undoubtedly Gale, I would know that shaggy mop of black hair and knobby knees anywhere. The other is Mr. Hawthorne. His face is creased with laughter and his hand rests lightly on Gale's shoulder, like he is sharing some important fishing secret even though the two poles between them are cast to the side, neglected for a moment of bonding.

It's captivating and so real that tears spring to my eyes. "Peeta, this is perfect…I don't…how did you?"

His bare arms wrap around me from behind as he rests his head on my shoulder, "When I visited Gale there were some photos up, and I used my phone to snap some images to bring home. I thought it would make a good wedding gift." Peeta tucks his lips close to my collarbone pressing a kiss there. It's a chaste kiss, a quick press of his lips before he pulls away, but the brief feeling of his breath and stubble against my skin causes me to sigh.

"He's going to love it. I love it." I twist around and wrap my arms around his waist, "You are so talented, Peeta. Thank you for sharing that with me and my family." There is no possible way for me to express what having this painting will mean for Gale, but Peeta knows that. He has to know what something like this would mean, and that is why he created it. What I wouldn't give to have a version of this with my father, a possible re-do of that photo I dread but love so much I keep in my drawer.

With a push off the balls of my feet I lean up on my toes and he meets me in the middle, "I love you." I whisper against his lips before taking them in between mine. I'm losing count of how many times we have said it tonight and I have a feeling that it is going to be this way for a while – at least I hope the novelty of those three vital words never wears off. The kiss starts soft, as our lips slowly play against the others testing the weight and feeling of our mouths pressed together. There is no hurry, this is languid – much different from the kiss we shared minutes ago in the entryway. Tender exploration ensues as we reacquaint ourselves with each other's mouth, carefully and unhurriedly because we have all the time in the world.

I'm not going anywhere.

Peeta is not going anywhere.

We are both in this for the long haul.

It's enough for a while… It feels good, but I want more of him so I deepen the kiss by slipping my tongue in his mouth. Peeta groans and his arms tighten around me as I thread my fingers through his hair.

"I'll never get tired of hearing that." Peeta says as he pulls away. He brushes my braid away from my neck before nipping along the inside of my throat and using the tip of his tongue to trace circles on my pulse point. "I love you, too." He repeats again. I am beginning to think that he likes saying it just as much as he likes hearing it.

Peeta slides his hands underneath the hem of my shirt as he licks a trail to the spot between my jaw and neck that drives me crazy when given attention. His hands find purchase on my breasts, cupping them lightly as he begins to lightly suckle on my neck. My hips push forward seeking friction and finding it in the form of his cock hardening against the seam of my shorts. "I love you," slips from my lips in a breathy whisper as he starts to manipulate my nipples through the thin material of my bra.

At this point my hips are jutting hard against the rigid bulge in his shorts, and he is doing the same thing against me. We are going to fuck. I realize this is inevitable – unless something drastic happens, tonight I will know what it feels like to have Peeta moving inside me. If he has his way, he will make love to me as he promised. I love him. I know this without a doubt. I want to be with him more than anything, but I'm still nervous about what having sex with him will mean. Surely it can't change our relationship any more. I like what we have evolved to, I'm comfortable with this and not positive I could handle adding any more intensity to what we already have going.

I'm in my head too much. Peeta is still working my tits over with his hands. Rolling, kneading, pulling, teasing, but instead of letting myself be consumed by the sensation, I'm analyzing. There is something I can do to clear my head though. Something I love doing and have only been able to do to Peeta once, and I didn't get to enjoy it as much as I would have liked to given the gravity of the situation.

With a gentle push of my palms against his chest, Peeta moves away from me slightly. His pupils are dilated causing his lovely blue eyes to appear dramatically changed. His lips are red and wet, as his tongue darts out to lick them. He appears confused momentarily until I ease down onto my knees in front of him. Pulling at the waist band of his shorts, I look up at him trying to convey with my eyes how much I want him, and how much I can't wait to taste him again. His cock springs free right in front of my face. He's already hard, straining with the tip of his cock pointed towards his belly button.

Peeta looks down at me as I wrap my hand around the base and bring the tip to my mouth, licking my way around the head and down over his slit. "Katniss." He exhales my name as his hips project towards my face. The need in his voice is evident, his want so palpable in that quiet plea that it is easy to forget my previous nerves.

I want him.

I want to show him with my actions how I feel about him.

I want him to fuck my mouth.

I slip the head between my lips using the flat of my tongue to run over the veins underneath his shaft. With my right hand I palm his balls with a light squeeze, and he thrusts further into my mouth with a loud groan. "Fuuuucck." Peeta breathes out and his hand weaves into my hair as I slowly work his cock into my mouth and then out again, teasing the head with the tip of my tongue with each pass through my lips. He is thrusting lightly into my mouth now, eyes heavily lidded as he pants with each pass of his length across my lips.

Going down on Peeta turns me on, but watching his reaction to my attentions to him is causing my panties to rapidly become drenched. There is a steady throb in between my legs making my thighs start squeezing together, seeking pressure, or friction, or anything to help build the ache into something more. As I continue to work as much of his length into my mouth as I can, I consider slipping my hand in my shorts. They are tight though, so it won't be easy and really I want something more than what my fingers can offer.

I need something more – I need Peeta.

I slip him completely out of my mouth and press a kiss to the tip. His eyes search mine as I stare up at him, "Be with me?" I ask shyly. The low tone of my voice surprises me. I am many things, but demure or bashful is not something anyone would ever describe me as. But there, kneeling in front of Peeta, want slipping from between my thighs, I am down right reserved.

Peeta rapidly pulls me to my feet and lifts the hem of my shirt up over my head. "Yes, of course…always." He murmurs before wrapping his arms around me, wedging his erection between us and kissing me soundly on the mouth, "To the bedroom?" My stomach is hot where he is pushing into the skin, and I know that I want him here, now in the place where I first saw him for who he really was and not who I thought he was.

I back up from him, working the clasp on my bra and letting it fall down my shoulders, "What's wrong with here, Peeta?" His eyes fixate on my chest as he licks his lips.

"But shouldn't our first time be…" Peeta's eyes dart up to meet mine, "I don't know special." Of course he would be concerned about that. Location doesn't matter though – what is building between us is what matters.

Earlier I was the one stuck in my head, now he is working things over too intently in his mind, "You are thinking about this too much Peeta, don't build it up because then it'll never live up to what you are expecting." He closes the distance that I've created between the two of us and kisses me tenderly on the mouth, "We've been working towards this for a while now, and I want you to show me what is so different about sex when feelings are involved." I can't bring myself to use the phrase that he would, but I'm careful not to call it what I usually would, because I know he wouldn't like that.

With his lips still attached to mine, Peeta places his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back until my hips hit the desk behind me – hard. "Ow." I hiss against Peeta's lips, and his hands immediately move to my hips.

I wish I would have kept my mouth shut because it threatens to ruin the mood. The lust that was just evident in Peeta's features has fallen away, replaced by concern, "You okay? Sorry." His blue eyes search mine, as he rubs the tender spot where the wood collided with my skin and I laugh lightly in response. "Geez, Katniss I think it's going to leave a bruise. I feel terrible." Peeta with his excessive worrying is going to kill the mood.

"Nothing an orgasm can't fix," I joke and smile at him, putting my hand over his and dragging it up to my breast. He gets the hint and squeezes lightly, catching my nipple between his fingers, tugging just hard enough that I feel my clit throb in response. Peeta lowers his head to my neck and starts pressing open mouthed kisses into my skin, working his way towards my other breast. When he reaches his destination he licks circles around the nipple before sucking into his mouth.

A breathy moan escapes my lips as my back arches my body into him. His mouth on me feels amazing – heated and wet so that when he moves onto another spot the cool air causes goose bumps to rise in the wake of his kisses.

I start to work at the fasten on my jean shorts trying to move around Peeta's head in my haste to get them down my hips. It's awkward, and I almost whack him in the face with my elbow. Instead of trying to continue getting the shorts off, I reach behind me and lay my palms flat on the smooth surface of the desk. With a push off my feet, my ass lands on the desk. Peeta immediately situates himself between my thighs leaning over to help me strip the denim from my frame. I shimmy back on the desk and rest my back against the wall, bringing my feet up flat with my knees in the air.

Peeta ducks down and slips his shorts and underwear off the ankle that he has been dragging them from since I pulled them down his legs earlier. He tosses them to the side and digs through the bag I brought, tearing open the box of condoms before fumbling around trying to separate one from the bunch he pulls from the box. My legs are still spread, and I'm starting to feel really exposed sitting on the desk this way.

I bring my knees together, but Peeta has made his way back over to me setting the condom down beside me on the desk he drags them back apart again. His gaze is feral as he does so, and I feel like he is going to devour me. So I shouldn't be surprised when he leans over and positions his head between my legs. That smirk is back, the cocky one that I love to hate. The one that made me think he was a frat guy and a playboy, when really it's just him. That fucking smirk that started it all.

For a brief moment, he holds his head there causing me to squirm. He knows what I want, and I can see that he wants it too because his hand has dropped to where I can't see and I'm positive he is stroking himself. "Jesus, Peeta. I don't care what you do, but do something already." The words are out of my mouth and I should regret them. I don't though because Peeta grins at me in response, settling a hand on each of my thighs - I watch as Peeta drags his tongue in between my spread legs.

The time for teasing licks and kisses has passed. It feels good, but I want more so I weave my fingers through his hair and tug his face closer. In response to my hair pulling, Peeta starts drawing circles with his tongue over my clit causing my hips to rock up into his face. His tongue slides against my slick skin while little electric bursts follow, and I don't think it can get much better than that until he sucks my clit in between his lips. The light suction is almost painful, in the best possible way. Instead of tiny little bursts of sensation – it is a full blown tidal wave of pleasure. It rises and threatens to crest over – I'm close to falling, riding that wave as far as I can take it when he pulls his mouth away.

It takes all that I have not to tear the hair from his head as I pull his face back to where I want it. He slows the pace though and starts deliberately licking at me again as he slips a finger inside me, curling out and stretching me. My legs are trembling from having my orgasm stifled so close to my breaking point. His fingers inside me don't exactly feel good at first as he works them in and out of me. It's been awhile since I've had anything aside from my vibrator inside me and it feels odd. The build that I had before diminishes as I become accustomed to the intrusion again. Peeta really takes his time in working me with his fingers, preparing me for him until the ministrations from his fingers don't feel like nearly enough. "You Peeta, I want you inside me." I manage to spit out as he works me with his fingers and licks at my swollen clit.

He rises and kisses me on the mouth, reaching for the condom on the edge of the table and scrabbling with it as he nips and bites at my bottom lip. I wrap my arms around his neck and move my hips to the edge of the table, the surface of which is cool and unyielding against my bottom. Peeta hooks one of my knees with his elbow, opening me up to him as he guides his cock to my center. He presses lightly against me until the head completely disappears inside of me. We both groan at the feeling and he lets go of himself, whispering "I love you" against my lips as he thrusts all the way inside of me. He fills me snugly, being filled with Peeta is the ultimate completion. My fingers grip tightly to the back of his neck, and his hips shudder against mine as he holds them flush against me, my lip quivers in response and a small whine escapes my lips.

Peeta buries his face in my neck with a groan, "I love you, too." I manage to squeak out and then he starts to move inside me, "God you feel so good." He starts slow. Easing in and then out in a steady pace, stretching me and catching the hood of my clit with each outward pass. The tension slowly starts to coil inside me, my legs quivering in response to his steady thrusts. My eyes drift down between us and I watch as his thick length slides in and out of me in a sharp rhythm. The sight is so arousing that I inadvertently tighten around him. I realize that this, a tangible embodiment of our connection, is what Peeta was talking about. Being with him is different than it has been with anyone else,_ this_ is more than sex.

"Oh, fuck Katniss. I'll never last if you keep that up." At Peeta's admission, I slip my fingers down between us and start to rub slow circles on my clit. He lifts his head from my shoulder and presses his forehead against mine. Peeta's hips still and our eyes lock before he presses kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, my nose and finally my lips. He stares into my eyes, and begins to move again with purpose. I drop my eyes from his, to where we are joined encouraging him to look, too. He does and we watch together as he slips in an out of me, his tempo becoming erratic with each new thrust.

By the time our eyes meet again, I'm building towards release, but not as quickly as he. I move my fingers from between my legs and grasp onto his back side, helping him push into me over and over and over again. Each time he is all the way inside me I purposefully clench around him. He feels so good, so right and I can tell he is desperately trying to hold on, but I don't want that. I'm not close to coming, yet I want to take him there. "Harder, Peeta," I beg and grasp him to me rapidly, relishing in the slap of his skin against mine. With one last broken thrust, I watch as Peeta falls apart – holding eye contact with him until he collapses against me panting and smashing me into the wall with his body.

Peeta is hot, heavy, sweating, and his weight is uncomfortable. We stay that way though, pushed up against the wall for some time before he sweeps me up into his arms and to the shower. There he kneels in front of me, hooking my leg up over his shoulder as I brace myself against the wet tile and I ride his face to my own completion.

* * *

The smell of bacon frying and the sound of Hemingway yipping in the backyard wakes me. I am alone in bed, the sheets on Peeta's side of the bed are cool to the touch. Technically, this is the second time that I have woken up this morning. The first one was a few hours ago, judging from the way that sunlight fills the room brightly. I woke before him and admired him while he slept, then when he was awake we made love again before falling back asleep. It's a bit disheartening to wake up alone, but I know he is just down the hall so I pull on one of Peeta's shirts and make my way to the kitchen where I find him standing with the paper propped up against the microwave. He looks up when I walk in and the smile he gives me could rival the beauty of the sunrise. "Morning, beautiful." Peeta opens his arms and I fold my body into his, "Sleep well?"

"Like a rock," I reply with an open mouthed yawn, he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. After our time in his studio last night, we showered and then ordered Indian food. It was a perfect night. I know that realistically they won't all be as wonderful as last night, but it doesn't diminish the fact that it was possibly one of the best nights I have ever had. After our shower we did everything in bed – the take out, movie, and snuggling all taking place in Peeta's bed.

I reach around him and sneak some bacon off the plate beside Peeta who swats at my hand, "Hey, wait for me. We still have muffins baking."

"You're still coming to the wedding, right?" I ask him through a mouthful of the crispy breakfast food.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I was thinking that you could bring Bubby. I'd like for my family to meet him, plus he's like the life of the party." Yesterday when I was talking to Gale and Madge, they had both mentioned wanting to meet Bubby. "Also, I can't imagine that he enjoys always having to be with you and your brother every weekend."

Peeta just kind of stares at me in response to my suggestion, I wasn't expecting this. I figured he would want to bring Bubby, "Or, uh, well… if you don't want to that is fine too."

His arms are suddenly around me, embracing me tightly against his chest, "You really want to bring Bubs?" Peeta's tone is surprised and rushed, like he can't fathom that I'd actually want Bubby around.

"Yeah, it'd be fun watching him give Prim fits." I smile into his chest and squeeze him back with equal vigor, "I mean I love you, Peeta – but let's face it; I'm pretty much with you so I can hang out with Bubby."

Peeta laughs a deep throaty laugh, "Yeah, I can see that. It's just I mean I never thought you would want him to come along. I'll have to get the van from my dad for a trip that long, but yeah let me talk to him. I bet he will be thrilled to have the invite."

"Well, I don't have class or work today so how about we go see him together? I'd like to invite him myself, plus it's been too long." Peeta's eyes widen again, I'm not sure how I keep shocking him after everything that we have been through. "I've got today off, and then I have to go back home to start doing all the prep stuff for the wedding. I need a relaxing day."

He steps away from me and pulls the oven door open to check on the muffins, "Okay, sounds like a perfect afternoon." Peeta pulls the muffins from the oven with a grin.

It does. Spending time with the man that I love and his equally awesome brother sounds like the perfect way to spend my time – especially since I have a feeling that the wedding stuff is going to be stressful even though Madge promised it wouldn't be.

* * *

**A/N: So…there it was. I hope that it was everything you expected because it is really nerve-wracking writing something 18 chapters in the making. At one point I considered skipping it and then I thought you all may come after me with pitch forks. **** I'd appreciate to hear what you thought…loved it…hated it…what was missing…what you would have liked to see more of…whatever your feelings may be please let me know!**

**Thank you to the wonderful Wildharp who sometimes has to play cheerleader when I'm going through a particularly rough patch or having low self-esteem issues. He's awesome guys! Find me on tumblr where I post inappropriate things and pretty much waste time, all the time. (kismetff)**


	20. Chapter 20

_Here we go, one last time...dedicated to my real life nurse!Peeta...I love you!_

* * *

"Two may talk together under the same roof for many years, yet never really meet; and two others at first speech are old friends."

_- Mary Catherwood_

* * *

_2000: 10 years & 12 years old..._

The russet orange summer sky was streaked with purple tendrils of twilight. It would soon be time to go home but the knobby-kneed boy was still hesitant to commit to what the little girl with two dark braids had suggested. He agreed yesterday but his sense bravado quickly faltered when she pulled the pocket knife from her backpack. "C'mon, Gale!" The rail-thin girl whined, "Everyone already thinks you're my brother. Let's make it official." The girl was right - they looked like family. Both children were blessed with thick, wavy dark hair and striking gray eyes, and the similarities between the two did not end with physical appearance, either. The best friends were stubborn, fiery, and extremely loyal to one another and what they held dear.

He chewed nervously on his thumbnail. Gale really liked to weigh his options and Katniss only sprung this crazy idea on him yesterday. It is always _her_ ideas getting _him_ in trouble. Since he was two years older he always ended up taking the heat when things turned sour. "I dunno. Catnip, you know my parents will freak and so will yours." Gale was not really concerned about getting in trouble; his mom probably would not even notice a new scrape on the growing boy. Truthfully, it was the possible pain he was worried about. There was no way he would ever admit that to his brave best friend. "What about infection?"

"Cheezus Sprite!" Katniss exclaimed, "Infection? We aren't performing an amputation here Gale. Just two quick cuts and BAM," she loudly clapped her hands together, "just like that we are blood related."

"Catnip, what does it matter? We will always be best friends. What does cutting our hands have to do with anything?"

"It's just..." Katniss twisted a braid nervously between her fingertips trying to find the right words to convince Gale to go through with it. "When school starts I'll still be in elementary and you will be in middle school…why would you still want to hang out with a 4th grade baby like me?"

Katniss's heartfelt admission surprised Gale. He knew Katniss was not afraid of anything, so for her to admit that she feared losing their friendship was a big deal. He flashed his biggest grin at her and grabbed for the pocket knife she held. "Nothing could come between us. You and me, Catnip, we're best friends forever!" He winced slightly as he dug the knife into his palm and then quickly extended it to Katniss. He watched as she repeated the same action on her palm. "Now what?"

Katniss reached for Gale's hand and matched up the homemade incisions. "Just grab and rub…I think. It's okay if we just make it up as we go along."

* * *

_2012: Present day..._

Peeta and I eat breakfast practically naked. The conversation is light and the mood is relaxed – for once we aren't focused on holding back. It feels fantastic, like the weight we were shouldering has dissipated and we can just be together. Being here with him is easy, and it feels like where I was supposed to be all along.

_I could get used to this._

I excuse myself and head to my house to shower and change, take care of Harper and check in with Johanna. Peeta promises to be by in an hour so we can visit Bubby and I can invite him to the wedding. I can't wait to introduce him to Prim and Gale. It'll be good for Bubby too, I hope, especially since he and Gale are the same age that they'll hit it off.

When Peeta shows up, I can sense that his mood has changed since I left him and he confirms this as soon as we pull out of the driveway, "I need to talk to you a little bit about Bubby." He keeps his eyes on the road and reaches over to take my hand as he starts to explain, but I'm not sure if it is more for me or for him. "His condition has changed a bit over the last week and... well, he may not exactly be himself today."

It's like a kick in the stomach when I realize that Peeta has been keeping this from me and I have no clue what he is talking about. _Condition_ sounds serious, but I'm new to all of this. "What happened? Is he sick?" I don't know if it's that Peeta didn't think he could tell me or if he was withholding for the sake of the rules. _Fuck the rules_. Had I known that Bubby was sick I would have been there.

"See that's the thing…" His voice is steady and unwavering, but his grip on my hand doesn't let up. "Bubby will never recover from his injuries. His state is constantly evolving. He had a pretty nasty seizure the other day after over a month of not having one."

The only seizure I've ever seen was on television - it was a terrifying, flailing thing. I squeeze Peeta's hand as hard as I can as my heart stutters in my chest. "What caused it? Is he going to be okay?"

Peeta sighs heavily. "Last time I was there, he was pretty out of it but that's normal. I just wanted to let you know because I didn't want it to be a surprise if he wasn't the same Bubby you were used too."

We ride in silence the rest of the way, sharing the occasional smile and sideways glance. Peeta eventually turns down a winding drive and I'm shocked when the residential home comes into view. It isn't at all what I was expecting.

_At all. _

It's clinical and not even remotely homelike - in many ways it reminds me of a medical facility for the elderly. I'm shocked. We walk in and the strong odor of disinfectant mingled with the earthy scent of illness greets us. I have a hard time not shielding my nose because the smell is so foreign, but Peeta seems unfazed. He walks up to the round nurses station, exchanges words with the ladies there and looks over a chart before tugging on my hand and leading us towards a hallway.

It's blatantly obvious why Peeta wishes that his brother lived with him. There is nothing wrong with this place, but it doesn't seem suited to the vivacious nature of Bubby's personality. The two don't reconcile - Bubby is light and laughter while his home is sterile and unfeeling.

Peeta enters his room first and I stand at the doorway waiting for the signal that Bubby is up for visitors. Then I hear angry words and realize that Bubby is yelling at Peeta. That's unusual; he always seems so happy, even when tired. The exchange continues and I hear my name, so I enter the room fully. Bubby's face is contorted into a grimace as he and Peeta discuss our visit, but when he sees me he drops his eyes and stares at his hands. This must be the _different_ that Peeta was talking about - the mood swings. I pretend like I don't notice and greet Bubby like I would any other day. "Hey Bubby, how are you today?"

He doesn't look up at me, just nods. I note the dark circles under his eyes and tremor in his hands. He looks ragged compared to when I saw him a few weeks ago. When he still hasn't answered, Peeta touches my shoulder reassuringly. "I told him we won't stay long so he can get some rest."

"I don't need rest!" Bubby exclaims loudly, his words running together and culminating with a sharp hiss. "What I need is those _fucking_ nurses to leave me alone."

I gasp. Yeah, I curse - and I've heard Peeta do his fair share, too - but it's a bit disarming hearing Bubby talk this way.

"Bubby..." Peeta warns, but I cut him off before things can escalate.

"You know who misses you?" I interject brightly. Bubby doesn't take the bait but the lines around his eyes soften a bit. "Harper does. Everytime we go to Peeta's he runs around sniffing all over looking for you!"

Bubby looks up and stares at me. I've caught his attention with this.

"Do you know what he does next?" I ask, waiting to see if I'll get a response out of him this time.

Bubby's blue eyes, so much like his brother's, train on my face. With a heavy blink, his curiosity finally wins out. "What's he do?"

"Sits. He sits in front of the door to your bedroom. If I didn't know any better I would think that you were trying to steal my dog." I intentionally keep my voice light and relaxed, trying to relay the same feeling to Bubby.

Bubby doesn't smile, but his mouth softens. "That's my plan, Katniss," he jests back, and while it isn't accompanied by the beaming Bubby grin I'm used to, I'll take it.

"I know Peeta said we wouldn't stay long," I venture, "but we came to ask you something and I'm going to do just that." I doubt the situation is completely diffused but at least Bubby is now paying rapt attention to me. "Remember my friend I was telling you about? Gale?" He nods slowly and gives me a brief glimpse of a smile. "How'd you like to be my guest at his wedding? And just so you know, I'm not taking no for an answer."

Bubby considers this. The silence stretches on longer than I anticipated, and for a moment I'm worried - I don't want to be on the receiving end of what Peeta was earlier. Finally, he answers, "On two conditions."

"And what are these conditions?" Peeta quickly asks.

"Peets has to get me a new shirt to wear, so the ladies can see how handsome I am." Peeta and I both laugh. "And," Bubby continues, "Harper gets to stay the night with me."

He's a long way from being in the mood I'm used to, but this is a nice start.

* * *

The drive back to Peeta's house is a silent one. He keeps glancing over at me and I'm not exactly sure what to say because I'm thinking entirely too many things to articulate them all. I don't like where Bubby lives. I don't like it at all, and I wish I would have realized that _residential home _was just another term for a medical facility staffed by nurses and care aides. No wonder Peeta wants his brother out of there. I want him out of there, too, and I've only known him a short time. He deserves better, and I realize now that is part of the reason why Peeta works nights - the pay is higher and will hopefully allow him to someday bring Bubby home.

Peeta reaches over and squeezes my knee, then leaves his hand to rest on my thigh. My shorts have ridden up and his palm is on my bare leg. It's an innocent touch meant to provide comfort - a tangible way for us to be connected - but my body doesn't realize that. Peeta's hand is especially warm where the AC was blowing directly on my legs. Goosebumps pebble across my cool skin and my hips tilt slightly as I fight the urge to drag his hand further up my thigh. I inhale deeply and try to steady my breathing as a sort of heat pools in my stomach - does Peeta realize the effect his touch has on me? I want him and I want him badly, but right now we need to focus on talking about what happened.

I cover his hand with mine, lacing our fingers together. "How long will it take for Bubby to recover?"

Peeta quickly glances over at me before turning his eyes back on the road and tightens his grip on my fingers. "It depends. But inviting him to the wedding gave him the motivation to listen to his nurses and rest - it gave him something to look forward to, which will help. It's easy for him to get depressed, but you gave him something aside from what's going on with his health to focus on."

Peeta's thankfulness for each small improvement in Bubby's well-being makes me realize how pointless it has been for me to focus on my own mixed feelings about where his brother lives. I lean over and press a kiss to his shoulder. "He won't be there forever Peeta. I want to know everything about him. I want to help. I love you, and I love Bubby too, and I'm in this for both of you." He doesn't respond, doesn't even squeeze my hand, and I briefly wonder if I've said the wrong thing.

Peeta flips on his blinker before completing a hasty u-turn. He directs the car into the Lake Posner reserve and pulls off into a camping area. I just sit there, unsure of what's going on until he unbuckles his seat belt and leans over the console, capturing my lips with his own and pressing my back up against the door. His kiss is frantic and consuming; his lips rough against mine, constantly moving as his hands tangle in my hair. It's like he suddenly gets it. I'm not going anywhere. He's been waiting for the ball to drop, the situation to get too sticky for me to stay, but I'm here with him. He doesn't have to be alone in this anymore.

Before I fully realize what's going on the kisses have escalated, my seat buckle is unclasped, and my shirt is up over my head. Peeta has shifted over into my seat and I'm straddling him. His hands rest on my hips as he guides me in a rocking motion back and forth over the seam of his shorts. His lips are everywhere - sucking and nipping at my neck, the soft hollow above my collarbone, and the peaks of my breasts. His hands work areas his lips can't reach - squeezing and rubbing at my clit through the fabric of my shorts, and pulling roughly at my hair. It's like he is trying to overwhelm me with sensation - with _him _- and it's euphoric.

As much as I want to be consumed by his hungry lips and hands, I want to take care of him even more. A quick fuck in the car would be amazing, but the thought pales in comparison to the idea of making this moment all about Peeta. The pain he carries over Bubby is probably not something that can ever be completely healed, but right now I can help Peeta bear the burden by showing him that he is the top priority in my life.

_What better way to show him that he comes first, than making him come first?_

We don't have much room to work with, so I break away from Peeta and open the passenger's door. A quick glance around makes it obvious that we are all alone and I proceed to tug on his shorts. He just stares at me. "Help me get these down."

"Katniss?" Peeta questions, unsure despite the want made evident by the rasp in his voice. He lifts his hips and I draw his shorts and underwear down together, allowing his cock to spring back up and lie flat against his stomach. I slip halfway out of the vehicle, my feet planted on the ground as lean over Peeta's lap, resting my elbow on his thigh. I take his cock in my hand and softly start pumping him. He brings his hands up along either side of my face, weaving his fingertips into my hair, and guides my lips up towards his where they meet in a gentle kiss.

The kiss deepens as Peeta thrusts up into my hand. He groans as I pull away from his mouth and dip my head down to lick at the tip of his cock, flicking my tongue teasingly against his slit. Peeta's skin is salty and warm and seems to heat my entire body from where my lips surround him. I want him inside me so badly. There will be plenty of time for that later, though - right now I want him to come in my mouth.

I work him in between my lips, swallowing him deeper with each pass as I stroke the lower part of his shaft with my hand at the same time. He moans my name and I hum my response into his heated skin, sucking to the rhythm of his light thrusts. In a haze of pleasure, his fingers find the edge of my bra and roughly tug the cups down beneath my breasts, palming each soft mound before rolling my sensitive nipples between thumb and forefinger. When he tugs on them lightly, I groan with his cock between my lips, consuming him with renewed energy as my underwear grow noticeably wetter. Peeta tries to slow me down, grunting that he is going to come if I don't stop, but that's exactly what I want. I try to take him deeper, tightening my grip on his shaft and moving my hand faster in time with the ministrations of my mouth. We connect in the moment that he comes, locking eyes as he lets go of himself in my mouth and I swallow every last drop of him.

Peeta pulls me back into the Jeep and holds me close to him, wrapping his arms around me as he buries his face in my hair. We sit there for long enough to witness the glowing orange sunset because we have all the time in the world.

* * *

The shrill ring of my phone's wake-up tone cuts through the silence. It's on the nightstand, but I'm in my old room at my mom's house and unaccustomed to how far I have to reach out to grab it, so I end up pushing it off the table instead. By the time I retrieve it, the tone has gotten progressively louder and I'm pretty much awake. Outside it's still dark, the early morning sky purple as the first fingers of dawn creep up from the horizon.

Today is the day that my best friend becomes someone's husband and we are starting it off right with a fishing trip. By the time I brush my teeth and make my way out to the fishing hole, Gale, Rory, Vick, and Thresh are already there picking through a box of doughnuts and passing around a jug of orange juice. "You guys are disgusting! Ever heard of a cup?" I tease as I flip open the pastry box to find one, lone doughnut.

"Aww, well shit, Catnip! I was there when Madge asked you if you wanted to join the bridesmaids for mimosas and manicures. That doesn't start until nine so if you leave now you'll get there in plenty of time." Gale lightly wraps an arm around my shoulders before mussing my hair.

I squirm free from his grasp and snatch up the last pastry. "Fuck you, Hawthorne," I tease. I cram half the doughnut in my mouth before hugging each of the boys. "Come on. Let's get our poles in the water."

We may not get much fishing done, but we do our fair share of bullshitting. I had expected Gale to be a nervous wreck - he isn't though. In fact, he is the most relaxed I may have ever seen him, joking with everyone, laughing, and just having a grand time all around. If I was the one getting married I'm sure I'd be insufferable. I mean, these are the last few hours he'll ever be single and that doesn't even seem to faze him. When I see him stand and start walking towards the edge of the lake, over near the secluded alcove that is hard to get to but worth the trouble in catfish, I follow.

"Nothing against Madge, but you know I have to ask..." Gale turns to look at me expectantly, the pole resting on his knees as he balances on the steep embankment. "Are you sure she's the one?"

His response is a deep chuckle, "Positive, Catnip. Madge is it for me."

"You seem so at ease. Aren't you nervous?"

Gale leaves his pole propped between two fallen tree logs and comes to sit beside me. We face outwards, gazing over the water. "I wish I didn't have to wear that monkey suit and stand in front of everyone, but marrying her feels natural. No, I'm not nervous. I can't wait." There is hope in his voice - something I haven't heard from him before but am happy to recognize now.

We simply sit there side-by-side for a while, the murmurs of voices across the lake occasionally breaking through the cacophony of bullfrogs and the buzzing of mosquitoes, reminding us that we aren't alone. Gale rises to check on his pole, but mine lays beside me untouched. "Did you always know it was her?"

I stare at his back, the stained shorts and shirt with the cut-off sleeves reminding me of the boy who was my best friend through some of the darkest times in my life. His response, though, is that of the man he is today. "It took me longer to realize than it should have because my mind was a fog with past hurts. But when my head cleared up, it was like loving Madge was the most natural thing in the world." Gale's voice is thick with emotion as he continues on. "With her there is no trying, it just is, and that may not make any sense to you now...but I hope to God that someday it does, Katniss. I hope it does because you deserve that."

When he turns to face me I wonder if he can see the tears in my eyes. I'm glad Gale has this. He deserves Madge and a life with her. I try to be nonchalant as a shrug my shoulders and smile at him - I want to relay that I'm happy for him and that, surprisingly, I know exactly what he is talking about. After all, loving Peeta came so naturally that it happened without me even realizing it.

"I can't imagine my life without her. I'm not saying that I wouldn't have been happy, I just don't think I would have ever known what true happiness could be. I dunno." As he comes to sit back down beside me, he explains. "With her it just is. I can be so mad at her one moment and the next we'll be laughing over how stupid my temper is. Or, she'll get caught up in the minute details of something that doesn't matter and go off on me, and then ten minutes later she's apologizing. I think it is the difference between knowing better, and being better - Madge, well, she makes me better."

I frown a little bit. I understand what he's saying, but I also want him to know that he was just fine before. "I don't know about that. I've always liked you just the way you are."

Gale laughs lightly, "You're missing the point Katniss. I was fine without her, but she helps me be the best me and I do the same for her. When you find that, whether it's with Mellark or anyone else, promise me you'll hold onto that."

There it is again, that tightening in my throat and the stinging behind my eyes - I'm about to cry. I want to tell Gale I _have_ found it and it is with Peeta, but today isn't about me. It's about him. So I lay my head on his shoulder and respond with, "I promise." Gale squeezes me in a quick hug and nods into my hair.

As we break apart, I remember the painting that Peeta so painstakingly created. He pushed the canvas into my hands as I was packing up the car and asked me to give it to Gale this morning, but I want to wait. I want Peeta to be there. I want Madge to be there. "Speaking of Peeta, he made something special for you guys. Don't let me forget to give it to you tonight."

* * *

The wedding went off without a hitch.

Madge was stunning, the vows were moving, and Gale even cried a little. Bubby was a hit and is smitten with Prim. Peeta told me I looked beautiful and I allowed it. Then he held me tight and kissed me and I didn't even let myself worry about who saw. So far, it's been a magical night filled with laughter, cake, and lots and lots of love.

My best friend is happy.

He's not just happy, he is ecstatic - I've never seen Gale smile so much. Even before our dads died, I can't remember a time in which he was this happy. Madge swipes at something on the collar of his shirt and he dips down, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose with a laugh. For the first time all night, they are seemingly alone as the crowd around them has grown smaller and most of the guests are busy dancing and drinking. It's the perfect time to give them the painting. I tug on Peeta's hand and pull him towards the bride and groom. "They are finally alone Peeta, now's our chance."

He tugs back. "Exactly. They are finally alone, Katniss." Peeta gestures to the couple, bent towards one another quietly talking, "Look at them. You want to interrupt that?"

"Yup. C'mon." I walk ahead and turn around to see Peeta cemented to his spot. "Seriously Peeta, don't be nervous. He's going to love it and I want to see his reaction so we need to do this now."

Peeta falls into step behind me, reaching forward and weaving his fingers in between mine. He's nervous about showing the painting Gale even though I have no clue why - he's been trying to pawn off the duty on me since before yesterday. I'm not nervous though. I know Gale will love it, and most of all, I'm sure it'll show him just how special Peeta is. Gale doesn't have to love him, but it'd be nice if they got along since I plan on keeping Peeta around.

Gale and Madge both stand as we approach and it's Madge who catches me first, wrapping her slender, lace-covered arms around me. Peeta and Gale shake hands and then we trade, Madge giving Peeta a welcoming squeeze as Gale crushes me against his chest. "Hawthorne, let go! Christ, get a hold of yourself. You're wrinkling my fancy suit."

He releases me with a deep laugh. "Cool it Catnip. It's not everyday your best friend gets married. It's okay to get carried away a bit!"

"But seriously, congratulations you two. I'm so happy for you both. Any chance we can steal you from your guests for a few minutes?"

Madge wraps her arm around Gale's waist as she leans into him, tilting her head towards his. "I don't think that's a problem, do you Mr. Hawthorne?" I fight the urge to make gagging sounds at her saccharine endearment.

"Sure thing, _Mrs. Hawthorne_," Gale replies. Well. That was unexpectedly cheesy and kind of precious in an _I-want-to-puke-on-my-shoes _kind of way. I'm happy for Gale and love has changed my perspective a bit but I seriously doubt that I'll ever act as syrupy as these two. Peeta is wearing a goofy grin though - he loves this stuff. I'd chide him but he's too adorable for words right now, so I just smile.

"Okay, well, let's get this show on the road before you two consummate your marriage on the buffet table or something." Madge giggles and Gale raises his eyebrows at me, but they both follow Peeta and I out to the vehicle.

We crowd around the door and the happy couple just stares at us expectantly until I nudge Peeta with my elbow. "Oh, right." He pulls the painting from the car, wrapped in a sheet, and holds it close to his chest. "Um, so, it's not much, but I thought you would like some art for your home."

"Peeta, you painted for us?" Madge exclaims. She presses a hand to Gale's chest. "Isn't that the sweetest thing? Thank you!"

Peeta shifts on his feet, the tension from the uncertainty he feels is rolling off him in waves. I take the painting and hand it to Gale who rests it against the vehicle before uncovering it. The instant the bright colors of the painting are visible, he drops to a squat in front of it with a large huff. Madge gasps and positions herself behind Gale, hands on his shoulders rubbing as he scrubs at the front of his face with an open palm. I tuck myself into Peeta's side and his arm comes around my waist as we watch Gale take in the scene depicted on canvas.

Gale reaches out with his fingers and traces the lines of the painting, he turns to look at us and his eyes are glossed over and shiny. I've seen him cry once today, but I don't think I can handle it again. "I - I...I don't know what to say..." He trails off and swallows hard.

"Peeta, it's perfect," Madge's voice cracks, tears streaking her cheeks as she finishes for Gale. "Just perfect."

It's a heavy moment, punctuated only by the music from the reception in the background and the sounds of our own breathing. Beside me, Peeta tenses and then squats down next to Gale. "You look like him, you know? It was an honor to paint this for you and it's an honor to know you. Congrats, man."

Gale looks at Peeta before standing and offering him his hand, pulling him up. They share an awkward, one-armed hug and Gale grips his shoulder tightly. "Thanks." They both nod as if coming to some sort of unspoken agreement just before Gale clears his throat and suggests we all go hit the dance floor. With the painting under one arm and his new bride under the other, we follow him back to the party. Peeta and I head over to where Bubby and Prim are sitting while Gale makes a beeline for his mom - I can only imagine how Hazelle will react to the painting.

Bubby looks exhausted, but there is a big smile on his face as he explains to Prim the difference between college football and the NFL. Prim listens carefully, asking questions and nodding at all the appropriate times. "Hey Bubs, talking Prim's ear off?" Peeta asks as we walk up to them.

"Nah. She's doing her fair share."

"How you holding up? 'Bout ready to hit the road?" Bubby shakes his head 'no', but his slurred speech and heavy eyelids tell a different story. "I'm going to take Katniss for one more spin on the dance floor and then we are out of here," Peeta informs his brother who puffs out his bottom lip in disappointment.

The crowd has slowly dwindled down and there are only a few couples on the dance floor, but Peeta doesn't seem to mind as he pulls my chest flush with his. "It was such a great idea to bring Bubs. He looks beat, but I think he had a great time. Thank you."

I lay my head on Peeta's chest and he rests his chin lightly on top of my head. "Gale is so happy," I murmur. "I've never seen him like this. I hope that feeling never fades, you know?"

The steady thrum of Peeta's heartbeat is comforting. He is solid and real. I let myself adjust to the reality that Peeta isn't going anywhere - he's here to stay. He seems to be thinking the same thing. "It's only the beginning, Katniss. Just imagine what they've got ahead of them." He stops swaying and he grips me tightly. "Us, too. It's only up from here." He presses a kiss to my hair and rests his cheek there.

What was I thinking, holding back? The way I feel right now, the warmth and the comfort - that is what I've been missing since my dad died. But it's different in a way. This feeling I have with Peeta is incomparable and brand new. I think I like this whole being-in-love thing just fine.

"Peeta," I start. He pulls back slightly and looks me in the eye. "This is different, you know? ... You feel it too, right?" His exquisite blue eyes widen as a smile spreads from ear-to-ear before he answers.

"Yeah, it is." Peeta's voice is as steady and unwavering as I know our devotion is to one another.

I think of the vows that Gale and Madge shared this evening, and while I'm not ready for that type of commitment, there are some things that I can assure Peeta of now. "I can't promise that I won't piss you off or hurt your feelings sometimes, but just know that no matter what, I love you and we'll get through it." I finish my words in a breathy rush, making it sound much more dramatic than I intended, but Peeta doesn't seem to care.

He tucks a errant piece of hair behind my ear. "That's a lofty promise." His eyes soften and he kisses me lightly on the mouth. "But, I know exactly what you mean. I love you so much, Katniss, and sometimes that feels crazy seeing as we've only known each other for six weeks-"

I kiss him, cutting off his words. He breaks away just to finish his thought even though I know it to be true without his confirmation. "I do though. I do love you."

We are in this together, Peeta and I. No matter what. I see this now. He makes me better and I make him better. We belong together, and while I don't know what my future holds, I do know that it holds him.

* * *

_In the not so distant future: 4 years & 5 years old…_

The cool, crisp air carried notes of earth and water. The breeze itself was light enough that didn't make it too windy for the children to play outside, but it still stirred the leaves up around their feet as they traced shapes into the wet soil. Side-by-side, the pair could almost be mistaken for twins. Wispy, wavy strands of honey blonde hair framed their their bright pink, wind-chapped cheeks. Their eyes, however, were different - the little girl's were the same clear blue as her mother's while the boy's eyes were unmistakably grey, like those of his own mama.

They were beautiful, cherubic children, and they were best friends.

"Whaddya' drawling?" The girl looked over at her friend's mud rendering. Unsurprisingly, his was much more clear and detailed than hers. She wasn't jealous though, because she was proud to have a best friend who was so good at drawing.

The little boy looked up at her, grey eyes catching the light. "Unka Bubs! See, here's him chair and right der beside him, dat's Addercus." He carefully used the tip of his stick to point to his Uncle's wheelchair and then to the large dog beside it, Atticus.

Upon hearing his name, the chocolate brown lab meandered over to the children from his perch beside Bubby on the wraparound porch. The little girl stood and wrapped her arms around the gentle dog's thick, furry neck, "Wow! I wuv it!" She boldly exclaimed, impressed with her friend and his artistic skill.

The small boy stood, dropping his stick and wiping his hands on his pants before reaching his tiny fingers out for hers. "I wanna show Unka Bubs." The pair crawled up the hill to the porch where the boy's uncle kept watch over them, or had at least been attempting to, because it was now obvious to the pair that he was snoozing in the warm sunlight with a blanket tucked over his lap.

The little girl's dad, Gale, was sitting beside the sleeping man, tying fishing flies in preparation for the rest of the week. The cabin, located high in the mountains, was a joint purchase between the Mellarks and Hawthornes, and while they both spent as many weekends there as they could, it was a rare treat when both families were able to enjoy it together. This time of year was perfect for fly fishing, and both Gale and Katniss planned to capitalize on that, hopefully bestowing a love for their favorite pastime upon their youngest children.

Gale greeted his daughter and her best friend as they approached. "Are you guys getting hungry?" Putting aside the fishing tackle, he pulled the little blonde girl onto his lap and tickled her sides before turning to ruffle the blond boy's hair and address him. "Last I checked, your dad and sister were making a pot of soup that smelled really good!"

The children exchanged a look and giggled. The boy's dad was a great cook and they always loved his grilled cheese sandwiches, but the mention of his sister helping out seemed silly - she was much more like her mom, who had never been very good around the kitchen. The sound of the kids' laughter woke the sleeping man in the wheelchair beside them. "Who's making all the noise?" Bubby teased, letting them know he was awake.

"Unka Bubs! I drawled you and I wanna show you." The little boy clamored to his uncle's side, eyes flashing with excitement. Gale lifted the child up, helping to position him on Bubby's lap.

"Sure thing, kiddo," the man stammered, but if the boy noticed the difficulty with which his beloved uncle spoke, he didn't let on. He simply tucked his head under his uncle's chin and wrapped his little arms around his neck. "Do you mind?" Bubby asked, turning to Gale, who then placed his daughter on his shoulders before unlocking the brakes on the wheelchair and easing all three of them down the ramp towards the spot where the children had been playing.

"Watch out! Da' drawling was here," the girl warned, wiggling to indicate that she wanted to get down and join the little boy, who had already scrambled down the side of the chair.

Both children knelt beside the muddy creation and animatedly informed Bubby about all the details of the drawing and what he had missed while he was sleeping. Gale listened with a smile on his face. They were so much like him and Katniss - his daughter and her son - that sometimes it was hard to believe. Sure, the blond-haired children were spitting images of each of their spouses, but all-in-all, the girl was a Hawthorne and the boy was a Mellark, and their friendship perfectly mirrored that of their parents. It was timeless and enduring, and Gale took heart in the knowledge that they would have one another to cling to whenever the road got rocky and times got tough.

* * *

**Wow! I can't believe this is it...last a/n:**

Thank you so much for all the love and support over the months that it took to tell this story. Let me know what you thought, you can find me here or on tumblr (**kismetff**). I appreciate every review, follow, favorite, PM, awesome anon asks that cheered me on, and tumblr message more than you could possibly know. I hope that you enjoyed the conclusion, and I look forward to sharing a few one shots from this universe on the 'Outtakes' thread...Please keep your eyes open for them!

**Ro Nordman** created a beautiful banner for this story, the link is in my profile. Also, I need to thank one (or some) of you that nominated _First Speech_ and _The Rules: First Speech Outtakes_ for the Everlark Smut Awards because it won a category and placed in a few others. I was blown away when this happened and can't thank you guys enough!

I would be remiss if I did not thank a few special people who helped me along the way. Thank you to **Court81981** and **Alexabee** for stepping up and beta'ing when necessary, providing emotional support when I thought I couldn't do it, and just helping me retain my focus - you guys rock!

**Wildharp**, I don't even know where to start so I'll just say this my twinster friend, you are the best! From the beta work to the cheese sandwich discussions, I knew I could always count on you and your friendship is a gift. Thank you so much!


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